


Ten Years On

by WatMcGregor



Category: EastEnders (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-27
Updated: 2020-12-27
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:14:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 31,271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28365993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WatMcGregor/pseuds/WatMcGregor
Summary: Ben's been away for ten years. A lot's changed. Originally posted as a multi-chapter work.
Relationships: Callum "Halfway" Highway/Ben Mitchell
Comments: 10
Kudos: 53





	Ten Years On

The doors of the bus hiss closed behind him, and he hoists his hold-all further up on his shoulder. He’s in no hurry to get anywhere, and has no great urge to reacquaint himself with those he’d left behind so he just stands for a while, drinking in the sights and sounds of Albert Square, unnoticed by those he watches and feeling just as much an outsider as he ever had.  
As the bus pulls away from the kerb behind him, he realises he’d forgotten how noisy the square could get, and how busy. On this, a typical Friday mid-afternoon in mid-May, the place shouldn’t have been particularly buzzing, but still there are more people than he ever remembers, dodging each other across the square as they go on the important errands that make up their day to day life. He sees that the Minute Mart is boarded up, its windows covered in posters advertising club nights and band tours. Ben remembers Kathy telling him the development of a Tesco Metro just around the corner had signalled the end for the Mart.  
In all his time inside, Kathy was the one who had written to him regularly, keeping him up to date with the shifting tides of progress and the changing relationships of the people who lived on the square. Those she thought it wouldn’t hurt him to hear about. He’d never written back, but still she sent her little bulletins, regular as clockwork.  
The car lot is still there, of course it is, but Jay’s given the sign a paint job, and where there used to stand a portacabin is now a more permanent structure, still festooned in the gaudy bunting that signifies dodgy second-hand car dealers the entire land over. Ben feels a quick stab of something a lot like grief for the scuzzy portacabin he’d lorded over when he was in charge. He’d had more than one meaningful encounter with ‘he who will not be named’ in that portacabin, back when the older man was still finding his way in the world.  
Ten long years. A lot could change in ten years. A hell of a lot. Even being on the inside, he’d been touched by the way life (and death) carried on regardless. His life now feels like a jigsaw with all the key pieces missing, and right now he isn’t sure he’ll be able to carve out a new picture from what’s left.  
By rights, he should have served a twelve-year sentence, but a combination of being on remand before the sentencing and then playing by the rules; being a model little prisoner (or rather, not being discovered when he did subvert the rules) had got him early release. So here he was, ten years older, a fair bit uglier, and no idea what he was going to do next.  
He still isn’t sure what he thinks about the fact that one of the biggest pieces of his own personal jigsaw is no longer there. He hasn’t troubled to think about it too much. Eight and a half years in, Phil had died. In the end he’d gone out, not with a bang; not even with a whimper. He’d just gone in his sleep one winter’s night, his heart giving out. Ben thought there was a certain irony to that. He’d been given leave to attend the funeral after Kathy had made the request of the prison, but he’d elected not to go. Standing off to one side at a crematorium whilst handcuffed to a prison officer was not something he chose to do, regardless of how fit the officer was. Instead, he’d had his own little ceremony the day of Phil’s send-off, involving the exchange of hurried hand-jobs in the back of the prison laundry with the cute blonde from three cells down and a few tokes of smuggled-in weed for afters.  
It’s warm; the square is bathed in spring sunlight, and he drops his bag by his side to shrug off his jacket. Picking it back up again he steps forward and is almost bowled over by a little kid haring up the pavement.  
“Jaden! Wait!”  
Ben steps back again out of harm’s way. The boy is followed close behind by another lad, a couple of years older - maybe seven or eight years of age - and he is followed by a harassed-looking woman.  
“If you don’t stop right this minute Jaden, I’ll swing for ya!”  
He does a double-take. Her hair is no longer red; more a mousey brown, and it hangs limply to her shoulders. Her face speaks of a hard life, the make-up that always used to be so immaculate is just a little over-done now, a little slapped-on, and there are bags under her eyes and a hardening around the mouth.  
“Whit?”  
She takes a second to look at him, her attention is so focussed on her two boys now chasing each other around the skip that’s sitting a few yards down the street. When she does, there is little reaction, other than a resigned settling of her features.  
“You’re out, then?” she says in greeting.  
“Looks like I might be,” he agrees.  
“Out? Or done a runner?”  
“Done my time, Whit, like a good little boy. Out for good.”  
The expression on her face is full of scorn. She looks him up and down. “Yeah, til the next time,” she says, and then heads off after her boys. “Jaden, Ty, c’mon.”  
“Lovely ta see you too,” Ben shouts after her. There is no response. She just keeps walking. 

He gazes around him one more time, taking in a deep breath that fills his nose with the smells of rotting fruit from the market, traffic fumes and greasy chips, and then sets off for Bridge Street and his mum’s café. Having been inside for so long, he’s forgotten the etiquette of being around other people in open spaces. Three or four times he almost bumps into people – thankfully no one who recognises him - as he navigates his way across the square, and he fetches up outside the café sweating and irritable. He’s underestimated how much adjusting there is to do when you’ve been kicking your heels at Her Majesty’s pleasure for a decade.  
His mum spots him immediately when he pushes open the café door and peers around it. She comes out from behind the counter, arms open for a hug and a wide smile on her face.  
“You’re back!”  
He agrees that he is, and steps further into the café, careful not to look at anyone else there in case he sees someone he’s not ready for. There are only three or four customers, all sitting at tables alone, and – when he does chance a quick glance - none of them known to him.  
Kathy envelopes him in a long bone-crushing hug, and then steps back to look at him, holding him firmly by the shoulders. “You look so pale!”  
“Not a lot o’ sun in them places, mum,” he says, rolling his eyes.  
She dismisses his sass with hardly a flicker. “And you’ve put on a bit of weight.”  
“Alright, alright,” he grumbles. “I didn’t come here for ya to insult me. I coulda gone any number of places for that.”  
She smiles, looking him over appraisingly. Then she pokes him in his admittedly soft stomach. “You’ll soon get that off, now you’re out and about again. It is SO good to see you. You sure you don’t wanna come and stay with me, just til you get yourself sorted? I’m rattling around like a marble in that house now Bobby’s left.”  
“I thought Ian was still with ya?”  
“Well, he is, but it’s still too big for the pair of us.”  
Ben makes a face. “Any house with Ian in it would be too small for me. Besides, Jay n Lola said I could stay with them and the kids for a while. Do me good to get to know Lex again, won’t it?”  
“Course it will. She’s grown up so much! Right little heartbreaker, she is. Fighting the boys off left, right and centre.”  
“I’m not so sure there’ll be any of that goin on now I’m back,” says Ben, feeling a wave of over-protective dad vibes.  
Kathy laughs. “You’re a fine one to talk! Not exactly a monk in your time, were ya?” Her smile fades. “Seriously though, Ben, you’ve been away a long time. You can’t start laying the law down. You’ve gotta ease yourself back into their lives gently, alright?”  
He rolls his eyes. “Yes, mother. I do have some common sense.”  
“Want a drink?”  
“Yeah, get us a tea. Then I’ll pop over the car lot, search out Jay.”

He’d intended his stay at the café to be a short one, but his mother insisted on filling him in on everything that had happened during his time away, all of it stuff she’d already written to him about. After she ignores his third attempt to tell her that she’d already mentioned particular pieces of news in her letters, he shuts up and lets it all wash over him, sensing that she’s just happy to have him back and that perhaps she’s not had anyone to talk to these last few years. With Phil gone, Bobby moved out for good after going away to uni, and Ian no doubt worse than he’s ever been as age creeps up on him, Ben’s probably the nearest to an appreciative audience she’s going to get. Besides which, sitting there with her as the customers come and go around them, it’s easy to imagine he’s never been away. He can kid himself that Lola will be popping in any second with Lexi in her schoolgirl pigtails and uniform for tea and a bun before school, or that he - .  
He who will not be named. It’s not so easy to imagine him crossing the café to sit opposite Ben, smiling from ear to ear like he always did, rubbing his hands together from nerves or the cold, Ben was never sure which. Ben had well and truly fixed it that that would never happen again.  
As if his brain’s transmitted particularly unhelpful radio waves, the door opens and Stuart Highway comes in, standing facing the counter. Ben sees him over his mum’s shoulder before she notices, and braces himself for the second Stuart makes eye contact. He tips his chin towards the counter, silently letting his mum know she’s got another customer, and she half-stands as she turns, then throws a worried look back at him. He busies himself with studying the dregs of his tea.  
He hears Stuart place his order, and he can tell from the silence that follows the split second that Stuart clocks him. There’s a pause, a step towards him, and then an exclamation of “You!”  
“Stuart,” says his mum. “Let’s not have any trouble.”  
“No trouble? No trouble! After what he done to our Callum?” Stuart towers over him and jabs a podgy finger in his face. If Ben’s waistline has spread a little, Stuart’s has positively blossomed. He’s twice the man he was before Ben went inside. “You should be ashamed to show your face,” he says.  
“Oh ‘ere we go,” says Ben. “Suddenly you’re the poster boy for gay pride, that right?”  
Before Stuart can respond, Kathy’s pushed in between them. She wafts Stuart back towards the counter and hands him his drink to go. “We all need to get along round here, so if you’ve got nothing nice to say to each other, just stay out of each other’s way. You hear me?”  
To Ben’s surprise, Stuart seems to listen to her. He recalls Kathy writing that she’d sort of taken the older Highway brother under her wing around the time Ben went back inside, and he seems to have a bit of respect for her. He backs down, but not before pointing a finger at Ben again from the doorway. “Watch your back, Mitchell!”  
Kathy comes back to sit opposite him, and he gives her a reassuring smile. “Nice to know my popularity’s not waned while I’ve been away, ain’t it?”  
She shakes her head. “Just go careful, Ben. He can be a nasty piece of work when he wants to be.”  
“Oh, believe me, I know.” He lost count of the number of punches he received from Stuart Highway. Somehow, he doesn’t think he’s had the last.  
Kathy looks tentative, as if she’s working up to saying something. She sits forward in her seat and fiddles with her apron. “D’you think there’s any chance - ”  
“Lot of water under the bridge, mother,” he says to cut her off. He’s not going there. Not today. Not ever, if he can help it. He who will not be named is not going to be discussed. He stands up. “Right, I’m off to see Jay. I’ll catch up with ya tomorrow.” He bends to pick up his bag and kisses her on the cheek.

TWO  
At the car lot he throws open the door and announces from the threshold, “There’s a man here needs a right good seeing-to!”  
Jay grins in pleasure, and Ben’s glad to see that he doesn’t just roll his eyes at Ben’s innuendo, like he used to. Maybe he’s even missed it, although that might be pushing things a bit.  
“Mate!” says Jay, rounding the desk to give him a big bear hug. He holds Ben at arm’s length, much like Kathy had, and says “Blimey! You’re so pale!”  
“Yeah, yeah. Already had that off me old mum.”

Jay shakes his head in wonder. “I know I seen you regular these last few years, but the light in them places makes everyone look pale. We’re gonna have to get you out in the sun.”  
“You’re a fine one to talk, gingernut!”  
Jay heads over to the filing cabinet and pulls a bottle of whisky out of the top drawer. Tipping it towards Ben, he asks, “Quick tipple?”  
“Wouldn’t say no,” says Ben. “Better be a small one though, me tolerance levels have gone to pot.”  
“Blimey, yeah,” says Jay. He pulls out a couple of glasses from the same drawer and places them on the top of the cabinet while he pours a big slug of whisky into each. “Ten years with no booze, imagine!”  
“Ahem, I don’t have to, mate.” Ben throws himself and his belongings down onto the customer chairs and rubs his eyes with the heels of his hands. “God am I glad to be out! I can’t tell you how much I’ve got planned. So much to catch up on.”  
Jay hands his drink to him and crosses to sit back behind his desk with his own glass. “Not sure I wanna know what you’re planning, mate. I can guess it probably involves touchin’ uglies with some bloke or other.”  
Ben snorts. “Touchin’ what?” He takes a sip of his whisky and grimaces at the taste. “Actually, that’s one thing I ain’t gone without these last few years.”  
“Oh yeah, Got yerself a new boyfriend, have ya?” Jay’s smile freezes on his face as he realises what he’s said. Visiting Ben on a regular basis, he’d had a front row seat for all the angst that had gone down ten years ago. “I mean - ”  
“Don’t think I’m ever doin boyfriends again, mate,” says Ben, cutting him off. “Free spirit, that’s me. Can’t be tied down.”  
Jay narrows his eyes at him, remembering how heartbroken he’d been about Callum. “Well, you say that now, but -”  
“How’s Lo and the kids?” asks Ben, cutting him off again.  
Jay picks up the conversational gambit with relief. “All fine. Lexi’s mad excited to see ya again. She’s hidin’ it well, but she was like a flea on a hotplate at breakfast.”  
“Least someone’s excited then,” says Ben.  
Jay gives him a hard stare. “You are kiddin’, right? It was all I could do to talk yer mum and Lo down from throwing a welcome-home party. They’re well-chuffed yer back. And I am. I can finally offload this place and get back to the funeral parlour.”  
“Christ!” says Ben, his blood growing cold at the thought of the party-that-thankfully-never-was. “Hardly the thing, is it? Throwin’ a ‘we’re glad yer out of prison’ party for a bloke who’s killed a geezer. Besides, there would probably only have been about three people there. That’s not a party, that’s a group of bystanders.”  
“Oh shut up!” exclaims Jay, “Still at it with the self-pity then?” There’s a pause, during which he taps his glass nervously with his thumbnail. “And anyway, it weren’t just any geezer ya killed, was it? Not just a random.”  
“OK, OK,” says Ben, fidgeting awkwardly and avoiding eye contact. “Let’s change the subject. Ma says Lexi’s been fighting off the boys with a stick. Just like her ol’ da, eh?”  
“You wish.” Jay smirks, but he can’t help feeling uncomfortable at the ease with which Ben batted away the reference to his manslaughter charge. “Anyway,” he adds, “You don’t need to come the over-protective dad now you’re back. She’s a picky little madam, to say the least. None of ‘em make the grade as far as she’s concerned.” He grins, remembering. “D’you know she knocked one back cos she didn’t like his shoes?”  
“Quite right too,” says Ben. “A girl’s gotta have standards. Glad she’s inherited her dad’s taste in men.”  
They grin at each other, pleased to be back in one another’s company. Jay raises his glass in a toast. “Here’s to freedom.”  
Ben raises his in response. “Here’s to not being tied down.”  
They sip their drinks, Ben savouring the taste; Jay regarding his mate with unnoticed but barely-concealed concern. “Drink up,” he says eventually. “We’ll get off home, you can meet the rabble.”

As they head back across the square towards Jay and Lola’s flat above the hairdresser’s, Jay strides out and Ben urges him to slow down. “I’m makin’ the most of being out an about again,” he says. “No need to rush.”  
“Sorry mate,” says Jay. “I didn’t think. You just savour the delights of Albert Square if ya want. Take in the beautiful clean air.”  
Ben snorts. “You jest, but if you’d been locked up with seven hundred sweating, farting blokes for years on end you wouldn’t be so dismissive of Walford air, mate. This,” he spreads his arms to take in the market they’re just passing through. “This is like bleedin’…” He struggles to think of a suitable comparison. “Bleedin’ Monte Carlo.”  
Jay gives him a look. “When’ve you ever been to Monte Carlo? How d’you know how it smells? Might smell of dog turds for all you know.”  
The whisky he’s just drunk has gone straight to Ben’s head now he’s out in the fresh air. He giggles. “Well, of course. That’s why all them posh people go there. Essence of turd.”  
His giggle is not solely down to the alcohol. He’s nervous about meeting Lexi again. She’d rarely come to visit him inside, and not at all when Lola noticed how much she played up after every visit, and put two and two together. For the last six years, all he’d known of her had been the odd photo included in the letters from Lola on his birthday, and he’d not kept them. Photos of pretty young women did not stay safe in that kind of a place, so he’d spent time trying to commit them to memory, tracing every contour of her face with his fingers, and then ripping them up and shoving them in the bottom of the bin where they couldn’t be found by the low-lifes around him.  
A few years back, Lola had taken over the hairdressers when Denise moved out of the area, and Jay had somehow managed to buy out the Cokers at the funeral parlour. As they reach the salon and Jay fits his key in the lock to the flat above, Ben takes a deep breath. “I’m impressed,” he says, needing to talk to stem his nerves. “You and Lo, two-business family. You’re a proper little power couple, ain’t ya?”  
“Three,” says Jay over his shoulder. “If ya count the car lot. Which I kinda don’t now you’re back. I ain’t gonna have a lot to do with it once you’re back on your feet.”  
“Apart from siphoning off the profits,” suggests Ben.  
“Exactly,” agrees Jay. He opens the door and pauses to look at Ben. “You ready?”  
Ben takes another deep breath. “As I’ll ever be.”  
As they make their way up the stairs Ben can hear the sounds of conversation and music from above. Laughter, too. It all sounds so homely and different to the raucous, echoing clamour of dozens of men on a prison wing. Jay enters the flat before him, and announces, “Look what the cat dragged in.”  
He steps aside and Ben glances down at the floor, momentarily bashful, before Lola has crossed from the kitchen and swept him into a hug.  
“I never thought I’d say this,” she says, “But I’m bloody glad to see you. Welcome home, idiot.”  
He returns the hug. “Thanks Lo. It’s good to be out. And thanks for letting me stay. I’ll sort meself out as soon as I can and then be out of yer hair.”  
She dismisses his promise with a wave of her hand. “Don’t be daft. Stay as long as ya want.”  
As she steps aside, he realises Lexi is leaning against the kitchen counter. She takes his breath away. Kathy wasn’t kidding when she said she’d grown into a right little heartbreaker. She’s dyed her hair pink, and looks so confident and self-assured. Much more so than he was at her age. She gives him a little wave. “Alright dad?”  
When he can catch his breath, he grins at her. “ ’Alright dad?’ ‘Alright dad?’ Is that all I get? C’mere, you.”  
Her face breaks into a smile at that, and she comes across for him to throw his arms around her. “Missed ya princess,” he whispers, burying his nose into her hair. She tolerates his embrace for a few seconds, saying “Missed you too dad,” and then pulls away awkwardly.  
Jay and Lola look on with wide smiles, and Lola says, “Don’t be such a teenager, Lex. PDAs are cool.”  
“PDAs off your dad are not cool,” says Lexi.  
“Ah c’mon,” says Jay. “’S’not every day yer dad comes home after ten years away. Forget about yer street cred today Lex.”  
Lexi throws a v-sign at him, and Ben laughs, happy to see how well they all get on. It’s then he realises that there’s another introduction to be made. Jay and Lola’s little boy, Will, is hiding behind Lola’s legs. He’s a blond mini-version of Jay, the spitting image.  
“And who’s this littl’un?” asks Ben.  
Lola takes Will by the hand and brings him round in front of her. “This is Will. Will, meet Lexi’s dad, Ben.”  
The boy sucks on his fingers and stares, wide-eyed at Ben. “Hello Will,” says Ben. He gets no response, and then glances up at Jay and Lola. “He shy?”  
“Not normally,” says Jay, leaning back against the kitchen counter and crossing his arms. “You ain’t shy at all, are ya Will?”  
The boy shakes his head silently, still staring at Ben.  
“How old are you then, Will?” asks Ben.  
The boy takes a while to think about answering him, and then says in a quiet voice, “Six. How old are you?”  
They all laugh. “That’s a very fair question,” says Ben. “Let’s see, I must be about thirty-three.”  
“Over the hill,” supplies Jay. Ben resists the urge to flip him the finger.  
“So we’re having take-away tonight,” says Lexi, immediately going into organisation mode. “We thought you mighta missed it. Your choice, what d’ya fancy?”  
He grins at her again. “Whatcha got?”  
“Chinese, Indian, Thai,” she counts off on her fingers, then gives up and turns to pull a wad of take-away menus from the drawer behind her. Ben crosses to stand beside her and they sort through them together, Ben not able to stop himself from putting an arm around her shoulders. If he was a softer man, he might feel like crying at how happy he is to be with the ones he loves.  
Behind his back, Lola and Jay conduct a silent conversation. Lola throws Jay a questioning look and a mouthed “He OK?”, and Jay responds with a shrug of the shoulders.

THREE  
The next morning, Ben’s slowly awoken by the sound of the central heating system kicking in. In his drowsy state he mistakes the rhythmic clicking of the expanding hot water pipes for the sound of inmates banging on their cell doors. It’s not until he hears Will chattering excitedly to Lola outside his door, and Lola shushing him, telling him they have to be quiet cos Ben’s not awake yet, that he remembers he’s finally free.  
He lies quietly for a while, savouring the feeling. His bed is comfy, the covers soft, not scratchy like the blankets they’d been issued with inside, and the tiny spare bedroom is painted in soothing hues of coffee and cream, bed linen and pictures coordinated. Last night he’d taken a long hot shower, scrubbing the smell of the prison off his skin, from where it felt like it had infused itself into his very pores.  
He could get used to this. The more he lies there, the more details from his surroundings make themselves apparent. The smells of coffee and toast drifting from the kitchen; the hustle and bustle of the square outside; the distant rumble of the tube every now and again, and the sound of a lorry backing up, the three notes of its alarm sounding almost orchestral to his ears, having been starved of all but the most mundane, dull noises in the last few years.  
He stretches luxuriously, and reaches for his glasses from the bedside table, then slides out of bed and sets about getting dressed. He’s only brought the clothes he took into prison with him. He’ll have to pop round his mum’s, see what’s worth salvaging from the sizes and fashions he last wore ten years ago. Then maybe there’ll have to be a shopping spree for new stuff. He’s got plenty of money saved up, plus a very small inheritance from Phil, so money’s not going to be a problem for a while. He wonders if Lexi would come shopping with him, give them some more time to bond. Perhaps he could buy her a little something too, try and make up for all the time he’s missed with her, although it’s her sixeenth next week. Maybe he should wait and buy her something bigger. He's got no idea what a teenage girl would want for her birthday, despite the voice in his head that sounds suspiciously like Jay’s telling him that he and teenage girls have probably got very similar tastes.  
He quickly makes up his bed, visits the toilet and then heads for the kitchen. He pauses on the threshold, feeling almost nervous about imposing on the little domestic scene he sees before him. Will, Lexi and Jay are eating at the table and Lola’s leaning against the kitchen counter waiting for more toast to pop up from the toaster. The radio is playing quietly in the background, and Jay’s got the paper spread out in front of him. Ben notes that he needs to wear glasses to read it now. Old Ben would probably have taken the piss, but the Ben of today just thinks they make him look settled, solid. He feels a weird sense of wistfulness at the thought.  
Lola glances round and notices him hovering in the doorway. “You’re awake! Come on, come and sit down. Lex, budge up a bit.”  
Lexi shifts her chair closer to Jay, and Ben crosses to sit awkwardly at the family table. “Sorry for bein’ a pain,” he says. “I will get out of your hair soon as I can.”  
“Mate,” says Jay, folding his paper over and removing his glasses. “We’ve told ya, you’re welcome here for as long as ya want. Just treat the place like yer home. There’s a spare key somewhere. I’ll dig it out for ya in a bit.”  
“Coffee?” asks Lola. Ben nods “Toast, or cereal? Both?”  
“Just toast’ll be fine, Lo,” says Ben. He gives Lexi’s arm a soft pinch. “You alright, young lady?”  
“Yeah, I’m good dad.”  
He musses her pink hair. “What’s with the candy floss, then?”  
Jay snorts. “Told ya, Lex. Told ya that’s what it reminded me of.”  
Lexi rolls her eyes. “You two are sooo out of touch.”  
“Nah, I’m messin with ya,” says Ben. “It looks nice. You’ve turned into a very pretty young lady.”  
“Da-aad,” says Lexi, squirming with embarrassment.  
“What? Can’t I pay my daughter a compliment?” asks Ben. “Anyway, you were always gonna turn out gorgeous with me as your dad, weren’t ya?”  
Lola makes retching sounds, and Jay snorts again. In all the exchange, Will has sat silently, staring at Ben in awe. Ben winks at him, and he dips his head to focus on his cereal.  
“Blimey,” says Ben, as his thought from earlier strikes him again. “You’re gonna be sixteen next week. I can’t possibly be old enough to have an sixteen year-old daughter.” He reflects on that dismal fact, and Jay shares a sympathetic look with him. He’s been as much of a father to Lexi as Ben ever has – more so, really – and he must be feeling it too.  
“So, thinking of going shopping today,” Ben says, snapping out of the sudden dark cloud that’s descended on him. “Get some clothes that don’t look like they’ve come outta the nineteen fifties.” He slides a hopeful look to Lexi. “Wanna come, Lex?”  
To her credit, she looks apologetic. “Aww, sorry dad, I can’t. I’m meeting up with some mates.”  
He nods his head, putting a brave face on. “Shame. Oh well, another time, yeah?”  
“Yeah, definitely.”  
“What’s everyone else up to?”  
“Well, I’ve gotta open up the salon,” says Lola. “And Jay’s over at the car lot. Gonna take Will, ain’t ya Jay? So we’ll be out of your hair, and you can have the place to yourself.”  
“Lovely,” says Ben, feeling like it’ll be anything but.

By three o’clock that afternoon he’s feeling just about stir crazy, which is ironic, when he thinks about it. He’d popped over to his mum’s earlier to dig out some extra clothes, but she’d been rushing off to take over at the caff with little time to talk, so instead he’d spent a frustrating ten minutes receiving a homily from Ian about making a new start now that he had the opportunity, which was patronising to say the least – although there were plenty of other words Ben had thought of at the time.  
After, he’d headed into town to do a bit of clothes shopping, but the combination of the crowds and the noise had defeated him. He wasn’t ready to plunge straight back into society, it seemed. He’d need to acclimatise himself.  
The rest of the afternoon he spends lying on his bed staring into space, which is exactly how he’d have been spending his Saturday afternoon if he’d still been inside. He’s beginning to get antsy by the time Lola and Jay are due back, so he decides he’ll drop into the Albert that evening. As he’d told Jay, he hadn’t missed out on sex during his time inside, but what he had missed out on was the thrill of the chase; the going back to a guy’s house and taking your time about it.  
He heads out about eight o’clock, telling Jay and Lola not to worry if he doesn’t come back that night. They both give him knowing glances from where they’re cuddled up together on the sofa watching some noisy reality TV show.

By nine thirty he’s narrowed down his choices. There’s a guy with blond hair in a skin-tight t-shirt, or a brunette in skin-tight jeans. He’s been eyeing up both of them for the last hour and he reckons he’ll leave it up to them now. He’ll go with whoever makes the next move, he’s not fussy. Not tonight.  
He pays a visit to the gents, spends a little longer in there than is strictly necessary, and by the time he’s turning to head out again, the door opens. Blondie it is then.  
He’s younger than Ben first assumed, but cocky with it, in that way kids these days are before they’ve lived a little. He looks like the kind of kid Ben could ruin.  
“I don’t really do toilet hook-ups,” says Ben, by way of greeting.  
“That so?” says the kid, crowding him back against the wall opposite the wash-basins. “This’ll just have to be the warm-up, then.”  
“You got a place we can go?”  
The kid pulls back from leaning in to kiss Ben. He gazes at him with appraising eyes. “That depends on how you measure up.”  
He leans back in and sticks his tongue in Ben’s mouth with no further warning, and as Ben responds he finds himself blown away by the kid’s levels of sass. Ben-levels of sass, in fact, before the universe conspired to knock it all out of him.  
The kid is controlling the kiss, holding Ben’s head firmly in place with his hands, and they’re both breathless from how frantic it is. Ben slides a hand down the kid’s body to cup him through his jeans, pleased to note that he more than justifies the levels of sass he’s displaying, and Ben groans a little at the prospect of what’s to come.  
At the sound, the kid grabs him by the ass and pulls him in towards him, grinding their crotches together hard. Ben’s seeing sparks. They’re both panting loudly, Ben’s half-hard and rapidly getting harder, and when he opens his eyes and looks over the kid’s shoulder he sees his reflection in the mirrors opposite; he already looks wrecked. He tilts his head back against the wall and ferrets a hand down inside the younger man’s jeans to squeeze at his butt cheeks. The kid moans and starts mouthing at his neck, then bites down hard, his sharp teeth making Ben’s eyes roll back in his head as he groans again.  
It’s at that moment that the door opens again. The increase in volume from the club outside makes Ben look up. His heavy-lidded eyes make contact through the mirror opposite with those of the newcomer.  
Blue eyes in an open, honest face that could never conceal feelings. They were always a window into his very soul, and right now, they’re looking heart-broken all over again.  
Callum.

FOUR

“Urgh. I am never drinking again,” says Ben, scrubbing his hands over his face and slouching over the kitchen table, his head propped up on his elbows.  
Lola’s in front of the stove, Will playing on the floor at her feet with his toy cars. She’s basting a chicken she’d put in the oven an hour ago. She’d decided they would have a Sunday roast, all sitting down together like a proper family in honour of Ben’s return, and Kathy had been invited too. The only downside was that, if Kathy was going to be invited, Ian had to be asked too. Unfortunately, he’d accepted the invitation, so now Lola was following her recipes to the letter, determined not to give him any excuse for criticism.  
“Well you obviously pulled,” she says, indicating the vivid purple mark on his neck with a wave of her oven glove. She turns to put the chicken back in the oven and slams the door shut.  
Ben feels sick, and not just from the effects of the alcohol. When he remembers the night before, the look in the eyes of he who will not be named, it’s with overwhelming feelings of dread and shame. He still feels the slam in his heart from when he’d locked eyes with him.  
“In a manner of speaking,” he says. In reality, the second he’d seen Callum he’d pushed the kid away. The kid hadn’t got it, at first, but when Ben had snapped his fingers and pointed to the door, saying ‘Do one,’ he’d stomped off, throwing insults over his shoulder about how Ben was way older than the usual blokes he went for anyway.  
Ben had scoured the club, but Callum had well and truly disappeared. So Ben did the only thing that made sense at the time. He propped up the bar and drank himself into oblivion. He told himself he had his freedom at last, he may as well make the most of it.  
Now, he rests his chin on his hand and stares down at the table. “So, I saw he who will not be named last night…”  
“He who…who?”  
“Cal,” he says quietly.  
“Ah.” Lola comes to sit down opposite him. “That explains the -” She waves her hands at him to indicate the drinking and the hangover.  
A small grimace of irritation passes over his face. “No, it don’t, Lo! I can exist in the same world as him and not have a major meltdown, ya know?”  
“You sure about that?”  
“We’ve both moved on,” he says firmly. “We’re gonna bump into each other, living in the square. I just have to…” He sighs. “Deal with it.”  
“And are ya?”  
He throws her a weary look, and shrugs. “It’ll get easier, I expect. I know it’s the right thing to do.”  
She regards him for a few seconds, a look of concern on her face, and then reaches across and takes his hand in hers. “You ain’t gonna try anything stupid again, are ya?”  
“That was one time, Lo. Nearly ten years ago. I ain’t done it since, have I?”  
“No, but then you ain’t been in Callum’s orbit since, have ya? Not until now.”  
“You never told him about it, did ya? Callum?”  
“No, course not. It’s only us and yer mum that know.”  
Jay wanders into the kitchen and sees them holding hands across the table. “Oi! You making a move on my wife, Mitchell?”  
Ben is grateful for the interruption. Things had begun to feel way too serious. “No, I ain’t,” he says. “I’ve already had her.”  
Lola tuts and withdraws her hand. “Oh, you’re such a charmer, ain’t ya?” She throws a meaningful glance in Jay’s direction. “I was just checking Ben weren’t gonna do anything stupid. He saw Cal last night.”  
“Ah.” Jay turns to Ben. “You ain’t, are ya?”  
“Oh for god’s sake!” exclaims Ben. “Will you all just stop with the concern? I ain’t some fragile little snowflake that’s gonna break any time soon.”  
His raised voice causes Will to stand up and stare at him with worried eyes. “Sorry, mate,” Ben says to him, trying to smile. The boy carries on staring at him, his eyes only just showing over the height of the table.  
Jay pulls out a chair and sits down, reaching out a hand to tousle Will’s hair. “I can’t believe you involved me in that last time. Asking me for all them ciggies.”  
“Can we change the subject please?” asks Ben.  
“No, we can’t,” says Jay. “I need you to hear this, cos I don’t think you realise the effect your behaviour has on people at times.”  
Ben rolls his eyes.  
“I thought you’d suddenly taken up a thirty-a-day habit,” continues Jay. “I had no idea you was swapping ‘em for pills.”  
“Well, why would ya?” asks Ben.  
Jay raises his voice. “Have you got any idea how I woulda felt if that - ” He glances sideways at Will, and lowers his voice, whispering the next word. “ - overdose had succeeded? I’da felt like I’d done it meself. Like I’d handed you them pills, one at a time. Don’t ever do that to me again, ya hear me?”  
“Don’t involve you in my suicide plans in future. Got it,” says Ben, tipping his chin at Jay defiantly.  
Jay and Lola exchange another glance. Seeing it, Ben, relents a little. “Look, I ain’t planning anything stupid, alright? You don’t have to worry.”  
They sit in silence for a few seconds, and then Will pipes up. “Ben?” he asks.  
“Yes, mate?”  
“Lexi says… did you kill a man?”  
“Will!” exclaims Lola, but Ben brushes her concern aside.  
“Nah, it’s alright, Lo.”  
“I’ll swing for our Lex,” mutters Lola.  
Ben turns back to Will, who’s still staring at him with wide, worried eyes. “I had a fight with a man, Will, and he died by accident. To be fair though, he was a very bad man. And so was I at the time. I was tryin’ to be good, though.”  
The boy frowns. “That’s not being good.”  
“Nah, you’re right. You see, the thing was, this man – Tubbs, he was called – ” Ben’s getting better at saying the name. He doesn’t always feel that ice-cold sensation in the pit of his stomach these days. “He knew a lot of stuff about all the bad things I’d done, lots of secrets. And he was gonna tell people. So, we fought and Tubbs died. And that’s why I had to go away for a bit. To learn how to be good.”  
Lola gives him a level stare. “And are ya?”  
He looks her straight in the eye. “Tryin, Lo. Tryin hard.” He turns back to Will. “Is that why you’ve bin scared of me?”  
The boy gives a brief nod.  
“Well you don’t need to be. I ain’t bad any more, alright?”  
The boy nods more fully, and smiles a wide smile.  
“I ain’t gonna hurt ya,” says Ben. “I tell ya what, though. I know a lot about cars, and I seen you’ve got a Ford Mustang in that collection of yours. I might try and nick that one.”  
The boy giggles, and snatches up the car from beside his feet, holding it protectively to his chest.  
“You gonna show me what other cars you got?” asks Ben, getting out of his chair and kneeling on the floor beside Will. His head is still throbbing, but he’ll take crawling around on the kitchen floor with Will any time over the inquisition he’s been getting from Lola and Jay. Above his head, they exchange another glance. It hasn’t gone unnoticed by either of them that he’s managed to duck out of the conversation.

When Lexi surfaces from her room twenty minutes later, Ben and Will have set up a race track under the kitchen table using various kitchen utensils, cookbooks and a couple of shoes, Will talking nineteen to the dozen now he’s got over his initial worry about Ben.  
“What on earth are you doing?” Lexi asks.  
“Brands Hatch, Lex,” says Ben.  
She stares at him vacantly. “Riiiight…”  
The intercom sounds, and Lola immediately jumps into action stations. “Right, that’ll be your mum and Ian. Lex, go and let them in, and take ‘em into the living room. Do NOT let Ian anywhere near the kitchen until I’ve dished up. Ben, you and Will need to get out from under my feet.”  
“Alright, alright,” says Ben, helping Will to collect up the racetrack and cars. “Calm down, Lo. It’s only me mum. Not the queen.”  
Jay puts calming hands on Lola’s shoulders. “You want me to do anything, babe?”  
“No! Just get out of me hair, all of ya!”  
As they make their way to the living room, Jay whispers to Ben, “This is why we don’t entertain very often. Major meltdown, every time.” Despite his words, his tone is fond, and Ben envies him his love for Lola, faults and all.

In the living room, Ben and Jay set about taking coats and getting drinks for everyone. Lexi is charged with sorting out some music.  
“Didn’t take you very long, I see,” is Ian’s opening gambit to Ben, nodding towards the bite mark on his neck. His expression is disapproving.  
“Well, you’ve either got it or you ain’t,” says Ben, brazening it out as he hands him a beer. “How’s your love life, Ian?”  
Ian scoffs. “Love life? Is that what you call it? A quick knee-trembler behind a bathroom door?”  
“A quick what?” snorts Jay. He throws a grin at Ben.  
“That’ll be a ‘still no girlfriend’, then,” comments Ben, turning back to Ian and ignoring the stab of shame at the mention of bathrooms. “How long is it since you had one? And anyway, how d’you know I got this beauty behind a bathroom door?”  
“You two, behave!” says Kathy. “Ben, stop winding him up.”  
“Me?” exclaims Ben. “He started it.”  
“And you,” says Kathy to Ian. “Stop being a misery. Ben’s only been out a couple of days -”  
“- so to speak,” chips in Jay.  
“- of course he’s gonna go and sow some wild oats,” continues Kathy. “Nothing wrong with that at all.”  
Ben thanks all the gods he can think of that Kathy has absolutely no idea what goes on in prisons.  
“Well I just prefer love over…that kind of thing,” says Ian.  
“That kind of thing?” repeats Ben. “What’s ‘that kind of thing’? No wonder you’re not gettin’ any if you can’t even say the word. Sex, Ian. Good, wholesome sex.”  
“Da-aaad. Gross!” says Lexi, from where she’s setting up her ipod on a dock. He winks at her, and she sticks her tongue out in response.  
“I very much doubt there was anything very wholesome about it,” says Ian in a superior tone of voice.  
Lexi huffs, and opens her mouth to defend her dad, but before she can speak Jay comes across to salvage the situation. Clapping a hand on Ian’s shoulder, he steers him towards the window to ask his opinion about some plants they’ve got growing down in the backyard. Ben is reminded, not for the first time, of how very grown-up Jay’s got in the years he’s been away. He seems to have his life sorted these days, and Ben feels out-flanked in some way; like everyone else has found the secret for a happy life and it’s eluded him. He’s been caught napping while the rest of the world moves on without him. He supposes in a way, they have, and wonders uncomfortably if he’s destined never to grow up or settle down. No, not settle down. He’s already sworn never to do that in any case. Love is not for the likes of him. Perhaps he and Ian aren’t so very different after all, he reflects with an internal shudder.  
Lola shouts from the kitchen for Lexi to go and lay the table, and as she heads out of the room, Kathy crosses to stand with Ben. “You alright, love?” she asks.  
He turns to her. “Yeah, fine mum.”  
She strokes his hair back from his forehead. “You look tired.”  
“Late night. Lot of alcohol.”  
She smiles. “Like that, is it? Celebrating your freedom a little bit too much?”  
In spite of himself, he sighs. “Somethin’ like that.”  
“Well, get it out of your system and then you can find yerself a nice bloke. Settle down.”  
He huffs a laugh. “Don’t think that’s gonna happen, ma.”  
Kathy puts a comforting hand on his arm, and he realises how wistful he must have sounded. It had leaked out somehow, and he’s annoyed with himself. “You’ll find someone one day. If you want to settle down, it’ll happen.”  
“I don’t,” he says, hardening his tone. “Let’s face it, me and relationships, we don’t go together, do we? I’m better on me own.”  
She looks hard at him. “I don’t believe that for a moment. And I don’t think you do, neither.”  
He sighs again. “I had me chance at that kind of thing, didn’t I? And I messed it up. Big time.”  
He wanders out towards the kitchen to avoid the concern and sadness in her eyes.

FIVE  
Ben’s feet pound the pavement as he turns back into the square and heads for the flat. A side effect of being in prison for so long is that he’s got into the habit of waking early - before almost anyone else in the world is awake-early. So, these last couple of days he’s taken to going out for a run at half-five in the morning. He’s enjoying it, he gets to see the square in a different light, and it feels serene and a little other-worldly being out before the other inhabitants get up to face the day and resume all their petty grievances and quotidian concerns. It’s having a calming effect on his mind, which is finding coping with all the stimulation of being back totally overwhelming; whether that’s adjusting to being back in society; learning about all the new aspects of modern living that he’s never come across before but that everyone else takes in their stride; or just keeping up the hard work of training his brain not to think of he who will not be named.  
There’s something else, too. Something that had taken Ben by surprise: Now that he’s out, Phil’s death has been playing on his mind. He’s still not sure what he thinks about it. He’s good at training his brain, and with regard to Phil he’d trained it to believe that he didn’t care. It didn’t matter one way or the other. Now, though, thoughts and memories are breaking through the veneer of indifference he’s so carefully constructed, and he finds himself recalling particular conversations at quiet times of the day when he’s alone with no customers at the car lot, or experiencing unexpected emotions late at night when the house is quiet around him. The night before last, he had a dream so vivid about Phil that it had suffused his mood for the entire day after.  
Despite this, he’s determined to ignore any signs his subconscious is giving him. Phil is dead. He’s in the past and there’s no point giving him any more headspace than Ben had given him when he’d been alive.  
He who will not be named, though, he’s a different proposition. Ben’s seen him in the distance a couple of times, but not to talk to, and that’s probably for the best. He had a bloke in tow once, so it seems he’s well and truly moved on. Ben’s glad. Really, he is. He hopes he’s happy.  
He’s probably about to find out.  
It’s Lexi’s birthday today. Lola had taken Ben to one side yesterday and told him in that sorrowful voice she seemed to adopt whenever the subject of he who will not be named came up that they were having a little family do for Lexi the evening of her birthday, and Callum had said he would drop in. He’d been like a second dad to Lexi and Will over the years (by which Lola hurriedly explained that she meant he’d been like an extra dad), and he’s stayed away for the last few days because he didn’t want to make things awkward, what with Ben being there. He definitely wanted to celebrate Lexi’s birthday with her though, so Ben had a choice. He could either play nice, or he could make himself scarce.  
Ben had been indignant. “I ain’t going out on me daughter’s birthday, Lo! What, you want me out of the way, yeah? So the rest of you can play happy families?”  
“No, course not! I just thought it might be painful for ya.”  
“I’m a big boy, I’m sure I’ll cope.”  
“Well please don’t cause a scene, will ya?”  
He’d shaken his head in disgust. “You really think I’d make Lexi’s birthday all about me? Give me some credit. And anyway,” he added. “I was the one who called it all off. Why would I be the one making a scene, Lo? I did the right thing.”  
She hadn’t looked convinced. 

Now, as he reaches the salon and lets himself into the flat, he feels anger all over again at the conversation. It seems none of them trust him to do the right thing. They all treat him like a rebellious teenager who’s one moment away from kicking off all the time, and it’s beginning to piss him off. He stomps up the stairs to the flat, not caring if he wakes anyone up.  
Once in his bedroom, he crosses to the mirror at the side of his bed. The bitemark on his neck has turned a vivid yellow over the last four days. He sighs as he inspects it in the mirror, inclining his head and prodding at the skin with his fingers. In retrospect, he hadn’t even found the kid that attractive. He certainly hadn’t expected to get a reminder of him that was going to hang around for this long.  
He sits on the bed and checks the wrapping on Lexi’s birthday present he’s placed there. He really hopes she likes it. He’d spent a fortune on it but, well, she was only ever going to be sixteen once, wasn’t she? He’d sought advice from Lola about what to get, and she’d told him that Lexi had had her eye on a leather jacket for ages. Lola and Jay were buying her a pair of DMs, also which she’d had her eye on for ages, and had told her they could buy one or the other but not both. Lexi was turning into a bit of an indie kid, what with her pink hair and the black eye makeup that she wore whenever she went out to meet up with her mates. The DMs and jacket together would set her look off perfectly. Ben knows he’s biased, but he suspects she’ll be the best-looking girl in any room she ever goes into.  
She’d said she would open her cards that morning, but she wanted to open her presents when everyone was there in the evening, so Ben set the present aside and started getting ready for work. If he got to the car lot early, he could probably finish up early and be back in plenty of time to get ready for the gathering. Lola had said Kathy (and probably Ian) would be there, as well as he who will not be named. Ben hoped there would be a few more, too. Otherwise it was going to make it hard to avoid him.

The morning at the car lot is quiet. Too quiet. He finds thoughts running through his head again that he’d rather not entertain. Thoughts about Phil and about he who will not be named, and somehow they all seem to converge into a single theme: abandonment. Whether its people abandoning Ben, or Ben doing the same to others, it seems like that’s been the central theme of his entire life. He finds himself resenting Phil for committing the ultimate abandonment: dying before Ben’s had a chance to…what? Reconcile with him? Tell him what he really thinks of him? Difficult to say, but there’s definitely a sense that Phil’s left something unresolved, had the last laugh.  
Ben tries powering his way through some paperwork, but Jay had kept the place more or less ship-shape and there’s very little outstanding work to complete. Ben’s amazed at the prices some of the cars sell for these days, but he supposes that’s what ten years of inflation will do to a business. He’s not confident he knows what he should be asking for some of their stock now, so he spends an hour or so poring over the book prices for each of them. He can’t deny, it’s deadly dull though.  
He doesn’t know what he expected when he got out of prison, but all the things he thought he was missing; the things he thought he would look forward to; seem routine and uninspiring now he’s back. Using his patter to sell cars; popping to the Vic for a pint with Jay; watching telly with a takeaway; it all feels unfulfilling, anti-climactic; like there’s something missing.  
He sorts through another few pieces of paperwork then throws his pen down and stretches. The sounds of the square filter in through the window, and he stands up and heads outside for a bask in the spring sunshine, propping himself up against the side of the office and closing his eyes for a few seconds.  
He opens them again when he senses a shadow fall across him. It’s Jay, bearing sandwiches and cans.  
“Thought you could do with a lunch break,” he says.  
“Mate, you’re a life saver,” says Ben. “It’s been dead here all morning, I’m going stir crazy.”  
“S’ pretty much the same at the funeral parlour,” says Jay. “Maybe people just don’t die in the spring.”  
They unwrap their sandwiches and for a while there is silence between them as they eat.  
“So,” says Jay between mouthfuls. “Big night, yeah? Gonna see Callum.”  
“Oh, ere we go,” says Ben, popping open his can. “Gonna tell me to behave meself too, are ya?”  
Jay shakes his head. “Nah, course not. I just wondered how you was feeling about it, that’s all.”  
“I’m delirious at the prospect,” says Ben.  
“Yeah, how you really feeling?”  
Ben swallows the last of his sandwich, and sighs. “No idea. How am I supposed to be feeling?”  
There’s another silence while Jay chews a bite of his sandwich, and then he clears his throat. “I, uh…I thought you should know, he’s got a new bloke.”  
“Well I knew that,” says Ben. “I seen ‘em around the square.” He takes a long sip of his drink, conscious that Jay’s staring at him closely. “That was the point, weren’t it?”  
He glances sideways and sees the questioning look on Jay’s face. “I wanted him to go off and meet other people. I couldn’t have him missing out on life for ten years just cos I was banged up, could I?”  
“I don’t think he shared that opinion at the time,” points out Jay. “And anyway, you ain’t banged up any more, are ya?”  
“So?”  
“So, things have changed.”  
Ben sighs in exasperation. “No, they ain’t Jay. I’m still a loser and he’s still better off without me. It weren’t just the fact that I was banged up, were it? I just can’t do relationships right. I always fuck up, so I’ve done him a favour, ain’t I?” He scrunches his sandwich wrapper up tight. “So, what’s his bloke like?”  
Jay is regarding him with a furrowed brow. He raises his eyebrows and shakes his head slightly, as if the characteristics of Callum’s new man are neither here nor there. “He, uh…he’s alright. Nice.”  
“Good,” says Ben. ‘Nice’ is good. ‘Nice’ is what he would wish for for he who will not be named. A sneaky little voice in the back of his head points out that ‘nice’ is also code for boring…  
Jay is still staring intently at him.  
“What?” asks Ben, with more than a little irritation.  
“You gonna do something about that before tonight?” asks Jay, indicating the bite mark on Ben’s neck.  
Ben rubs at it.  
“No! Don’t do that,” says Jay, slapping his hand away. “You’ll make it worse.”  
“Well what can I do about it?” asks Ben.  
Jay looks clueless. Ben rolls his eyes.  
“It don’t matter,” he says. “He won’t be looking at me for signs of a sex life, will he? He’s got his own to be worrying about.”  
Jay looks unconvinced. “You could always use some of Lola’s foundation,” he suggests, in the tone of someone who knows he’s clutching at straws.

When he gets back to the flat that afternoon, Ben picks out a shirt, the most flattering one he’s got, and decent jeans. He wants to look nice for Lexi. Absolutely not for anyone else. Checking how he looks in the mirror, though, he curses. Jay was right. The love-bite on his neck looks bad. He goes into the bathroom and roots through the cabinet above the washbasin until he finds a tube of Lola’s foundation, then applies it liberally over the mark.  
Sure that he’s looking as good as he’s ever going to, he takes a few deep breaths and heads into the living room where Kathy, Ian, Lexi, Lola, Will and Jay have already gathered. Bobby’s arrived too, girlfriend in tow, having travelled across from West Ham. Ben’s chuffed to see him. He’s always felt they had an affinity, both being the black sheep of the family. He’s glad to see that Bobby seems a lot more easy in his skin than he ever did.  
“Right,” says Lola. “Drinks supplies are in the kitchen so just go and help yerselves. There’s a few nibbles out there too. Lexi, happy birthday darlin’.” She turns and picks up a pile of presents from where they’d been waiting on the side.  
“Wow!” says Lexi, as they’re handed across to her. “So many presents!” She looks at the one from Ben in particular, squeezing and prodding at it to try and work out what it is.

“Are we all here?” asks Ben, kicking himself a second later for coming across as slightly desolate.  
“Why? Missing someone?” asks Ian, sounding like he thinks he’s made the biggest joke of the century.  
Ben glares at him. “I meant,” he explains, “ain’t you invited any mates, Lex?”  
She throws him a smile. “Nah, I’m going out for a meal with a few friends at the weekend.”  
“Oh,” he answers. “Very sophisticated.”  
Jay chuckles. “Yeah, in our day we’d just get pissed in a bus stop on our sixteenth.”  
Lola slaps at his arm. “Language!”  
The buzzer for the door sounds, and Ben’s heart jumps.  
“That’ll be Cal,” says Lola, heading for the intercom.  
“Ben’s friend,” sing-songs Ian, still clearly thinking he’s being hilarious.  
Kathy shoots daggers at him. “Remember that little talk we had earlier, Ian?”  
He sniggers. “Oh, come on. It’s funny. Don’t you think it’s funny? The Romeo and Juliet of Walford. Or should that be ‘Romeo and Julian?”  
“Don’t be a twat, mate,” says Jay.  
“Yeah, shut up uncle Ian,” adds Lexi.  
Ian raises his hands in surrender, a smirk still on his face. Kathy gives him a look as if to emphasise the fact that everyone’s on Ben’s side.  
“I’m going to get a beer,” says Ben. “Anyone want anything?” He suddenly feels hot and it’s not just down to anger at Ian’s idiotic attempt at humour.  
“I’ll come and get one with ya,” says Jay. Once in the kitchen, he claps a hand on Ben’s shoulder. “Ignore him, mate, he’s an idiot.”  
Ben cracks open a can and takes a long gulp of beer. “I wish everyone would just accept that it’s ancient history,” he says. “I have.”  
They hear voices coming towards the kitchen and then past the door and further on into the living room. Lola’s voice and two others. Callum’s got the nice-guy boyfriend in tow.  
Jay and Ben exchange a glance, then Ben huffs a sigh and makes his way back to the living room. Everyone’s greeting everyone else so he’s able to slip in unnoticed and stand at the back of the group. Introductions completed all round, he curses his luck as the group parts and everyone looks his way.  
“And Ben’s here somewhere,” says Lola, only the slightest hint of tension in her voice.  
Callum steps into view. He looks good. He looks nervous, too, but mostly he looks good. His hair is greying a little at the temples, but it only serves to make him look distinguished. His eyes alight on Ben. Ben swallows hard, before nodding a greeting at him.  
“Hi Ben,” says Callum, his voice steady, but his eyes sliding away from Ben and focusing just to the left of him.  
The nice-guy boyfriend steps into Ben’s line of sight and says “And I’m Alex, Cal’s boyfriend. Cal’s rubbish at introducing me to people, aren’t ya babe?” He rubs Callum’s back and smiles at Ben, as if he’d share his exasperation. Ben looks down at the floor, after a half-nod.  
There’s a long silence, during which Ian sniggers, and then Lexi comes to the rescue. “You’re just in time for me to open my pressies, Cal.”  
The group turns back to her, and Callum rubs his hands together in that way he always had. “Right, yeah. Happy birthday, sweetheart. ‘Fraid we can’t stay long, we’re on our way out. But I brought you this.” He reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out a small gift. Handing it to Lexi, he gives her a kiss on the cheek. “Sixteen, eh?”  
He looks around at the group, and everyone falls over themselves to agree that Lexi is indeed sixteen, and how mad is that?  
“Right, what ya gonna open first, Lex?” asks Lola.  
Lexi sits down on the couch next to her pile of presents and picks up the gift from Ben. “Dad’s.” She squeezes at is again. “What is it? It’s big. And squishy.”  
“If only there was some way of getting that paper out the way so you could find out,” says Ian, still with the highly inflated sense of his own hilarity. Kathy gives him another look.  
Lexi squeals as she unwraps the jacket, and then bounds across to Ben to give him a massive hug. “Dad! I love it! Thank you so much.”  
“No trouble, princess,” he says, feeling awkward that once again all eyes are on him. “I hope it’s the one you wanted.”  
“It is! It’s perfect.”  
He buries his face in her hair. “Nothing less for my baby. Happy birthday gorgeous.”  
There are ‘awws’ all round, and when he looks up again, it’s to find that Callum’s eyes are upon him, looking right into his soul but giving nothing away. He holds Ben’s gaze for a second, and then a barely perceptible frown passes over his face. He looks away.

Lexi returns to the couch to unwrap the rest of her presents, and when the entire opening ceremony is finished, everyone mills around, drinking, nibbling on snacks and chatting. Ben has a long catch up with Bobby and gets to know Hannah, his girlfriend, and spends a great deal of time with Will, who seems to have decided Ben’s the best thing in the world since he overcame his initial fear of him. In all the time Ben’s in conversation with others, he’s acutely aware of the whereabouts of Callum in the room.  
He supposes it’s inevitable, really, that they’ll find each other side by side at some point in the evening. The nice-guy boyfriend is deep in conversation with Ian, god help him, across the other side of the room, and Kathy’s just turned away from Ben to go in search of another drink when he becomes conscious that the conversation Callum was involved in has also just come to an end.  
They stand together, drinking awkwardly and watching the rest of the room, before Callum stirs with an obvious effort and turns to face him.  
“You’re out, then.”  
“I am,” agrees Ben.  
“How ya finding it?”  
“It’s hard,” admits Ben. “Big adjustment.”  
Callum nods, as if he’s only half interested. Back in the day he’d have been fixing Ben with eyes that were huge with concern, but this is good, Ben tells himself. Callum doesn’t care about him anymore, and that’s what Ben wanted. He’s moved on.  
There’s a long, awkward silence between them, then Ben waves his drink in the direction of Alex. “Your boyfriend seems nice.”  
“He is,” says Callum, nodding his head so hard Ben’s afraid he might dislocate something. “He’s lovely, We’re really happy together. Think I mighta found the one.”  
“Good,” says Ben. “That’s…good. I’m pleased for ya.” He stares at Alex from across the room. He’s definitely ‘nice’ as in ‘boring’. Even Ian’s looking like he wants to start edging away to find someone with more stimulating conversation.  
“Yeah, he owns the gym in Bridge Street,” continues Callum. “We’re thinking we might move in together soon.”  
“Yeah? How long you been together?” asks Ben.  
Callum shifts awkwardly. “Well, only three or four months. But when you know, you know, don’tcha?”  
“I guess so,” agrees Ben.  
There’s another long pause, during which Ben realises Lexi, Lola and Kathy are all keeping anxious eyes on the pair of them from various parts of the room.  
“And how’s the policing?” he asks eventually.  
Callum comes alive at the question, turning more fully towards him and beginning to wax lyrical about his job. “Best thing I ever did, joining the force. It’s challenging, yeah, and there’s a lot of people got a real problem with us -”. He pauses for a second, realising who he’s talking to. “But…but on the good days you really feel like you’re makin’ a difference.”  
“Sounds like you’ve landed on yer feet, then,” says Ben. “I’m pleased for ya.” He curses himself for his lack of originality.  
Callum smiles at him then, a real, honest smile, but as his eyes slide down to Ben’s neck, the smile fades from his face. “Right, well,” he says. “Me n Alex, we was only supposed to stay for half an hour. We’re out on a date tonight.” He takes a step away from Ben. “Better make a move.”  
“Have a good night then, mate,” says Ben, but Callum’s already turned away from him. He watches as he goes to rescue Alex, throwing an arm around him and planting a kiss on his lips before they turn to thank Lexi for inviting them.  
Goodbyes are chorused from around the room, and then Callum is gone.  
Ben stands alone, taking a few long draughts from his beer, until Lexi comes across to join him. “Alright, dad?”  
He rouses himself from his thoughts and smiles at her. “Yeah, princess, just thinking.”  
“Oh yeah? Whatcha thinking about?”  
“Ooh, this and that.” He puts an arm around her and squeezes her shoulders. “I still need to get some prison-weight off. I was thinking I might join the gym.”

SIX  
Ben takes his pen and circles the advert in the paper. ‘One-bed flat in period house, suit single professional. Bed, bath, kitchen, living room. No pets, no smokers.’ The rent takes him aback a bit, but it seems to be average for that kind of property. It’s in the right postcode, too.  
He takes a second to decide if he should put in a call about it, and then reaches across his desk for his phone. His call is answered on the second ring, and the guy gives him a load of bull about how there’s been lots of interest in the flat and he’ll need to come and view it that day if he wants to be in with a shot. Ben resists the urge to tell him he’s a second hand car salesman, he knows all the sales tricks. However, the upshot is that he arranges an appointment to see it later that afternoon.  
He ends the call and throws his phone back down on his desk. He’s not sure how he feels about moving out of Jay and Lola’s. He knows he should, he’s already imposed upon them for over a week, but part of him is nervous about living on his own. He’s worried all the thoughts in his head might become too much to manage when he’s got no distractions from anyone else. It would be nice to have somewhere to take blokes back to though. He feels like a monk these days, and not only because his first experience of pulling after leaving prison had been so depressing he hasn’t attempted it since.  
He crosses to the open window and sees that there’s a couple of young men looking at one of the cars. He stands and watches for a while, sussing out the body language and trying to hear what they’re saying to each other. He’s trying to work out if they’re a couple when the shorter one stretches up and gives the taller one a quick peck on the lips. That answers that question, then.  
They remind him of him and Callum. There’d always been the height difference with them, too, making them look faintly ridiculous together. Obviously, Alex doesn’t have that problem. He’s more or less the same height as Callum, and Ben can’t deny they make a handsome couple. Maybe Alex is just what Callum needs – and maybe he’s a bit less boring when it’s just the two of them alone. Ben decides that – yes – Alex is just what Callum needs, and he, Ben, is happy for them both. He’ll chant it in front of the mirror every morning and every evening if it helps his brain to accept it.  
The two men move off across the square, chatting animatedly to each other, and Stuart lumbers into view. He clocks Ben standing at the window and glares at him as he goes past. Ben sighs, and wonders if the bloke spends as much time on warning Alex off his little brother as he does Ben. He shouldn’t waste the energy. Ben’s no threat. Not anymore. He’s not going to mess Callum’s life up any more than he already has.  
When he goes to view it later that afternoon, the flat is basic but it suits his needs. It even has white goods included, and built-in shelves in the living room, so he won’t need to shell out a fortune to make it habitable. He’ll just need a bed, a second-hand wardrobe and a couch, and he’ll be set. Most importantly, it’s just around the corner from the square, in Victoria Road. He takes it, pays a deposit that’s more than his monthly wage of ten years ago, and agrees a moving-in date of a month’s time.  
He wonders what Phil would make of his current circumstances. Mid-thirties and just about to move into his first home. Alone. Estranged from the only living person he ever imagined he could make a life with. The same person who looks at him now with hardly a glimmer of feeling in his eyes, if their conversation at Lexi’s party is anything to go by. Dead-end job on a car lot and nothing to show for his thirty-three years on this planet.  
Apart from Lexi, his brain reminds him. She’s been the one good thing about his life, and he almost messed that up too, on several occasions. He heads home to tell her, Lola and Jay the good news – that he’ll soon be out of their hair.

Lexi is more disappointed than he would have expected, and in a way he’s pleased that it’s meant so much to her, having him staying with her.  
“I can keep an eye on you here,” she says, sounding way more grown up than her sixteen years. “I know you’ll be safe and, well, you might be lonely. I can be here for ya if ya need someone to talk to.”  
He gives her a hug. “I ain’t goin’ far, Lex. I’ll still be poppin’ in all the time. And you can come round to mine, too. We’ll have girly nights in watchin’ movies and talking about boys.”  
She perks up at that, and smiles at him. “I’d like that.”  
“Oh, I’d love to be a fly on the wall for them,” chips in Lola as she wanders past, tidying up the living room around them.  
“You’re just jealous cos you’re not invited,” says Ben.  
She rolls her eyes. “Tell you what though, I could do with a few nights out meself. We ought to get the old gang back together, make it a regular thing.”  
“The old gang?” asks Ben.  
“Yeah, you, me, Jay, Whit…Cal.”  
“And Cal’s boyfriend,” supplies Ben.  
She gives him a wry smile. “You don’t have a problem with that. You said so.”  
He shrugs. “I don’t.” He reflects that it’ll do him good to see more of Callum and Alex together. Help the idea sink in that Callum’s not his anymore. “Yeah, let’s do it. Lex, you’ll babysit for Lo, won’t ya?”  
She looks dubious, but nods her head. “Yeah, course. Just tell me when you want me.”  
“Great! That’s settled then,” says Ben, standing up. “Right, I’m off out.”  
Lola glances at the clock over the mantelpiece. “At half five? Where you goin?”  
“Bridge Street gym,” supplies Ben.  
Lola and Lexi both give him long stares.  
“The gym?” asks Lola.  
“Yeah, still got a bit of prison weight to get off, ain’t I?”  
“The gym in Bridge Street?” persists Lola. “The gym Callum’s bloke works at?”  
“It’s the closest one, Lo. Ain’t gonna go out of my way, am I? Gotta conserve my energy for me exercise.” He winks at her. “ I’m goin’ to get changed.”  
As he leaves the room, he senses that Lexi and Lola may just have exchanged a look behind him.

When he pushes open the door to the gym and sidles inside, he realises that he might have chosen the wrong time to come. The evening commuters are taking up most of the machines, and the air is full of the smell of sweat and the grunts and groans of exertion.  
He heads for a cross-trainer and sets it up for a gentle warm-up for ten minutes. The TVs on the wall are playing music videos, and as his machine starts up, he watches a a guy in a trailing feather boa and heavy make-up do the samba to a high-energy beat on a bridge surrounded by fireworks. He’s no idea what it’s supposed to signify, but he fears for the boa with all those pyrotechnics around. He realises he’s beginning to feel his age.  
Seven minutes into his warm-up, someone stops by his machine and a voice comes from beside him. “Hey! It’s Ben, isn’t it? How’re you?”  
Alex.  
Ben turns to look at him, and makes a show of trying to remember who he is.  
Alex points at himself. “Alex. We met at Lexi’s birthday party.”  
Ben gives an exaggerated nod of his head, and puffs out, “Oh, of course. You were with Callum, right?”  
“Right!”  
Alex is wearing a vest and shorts, and he looks annoyingly muscular; annoyingly full of vitality; annoyingly bright-eyed and bushy tailed. A bit like an over-energetic Labrador. He looks like he’s over the moon that he’s bumped into Ben. What are the chances?  
Ben brings the cross-trainer to a halt to give himself enough breath to conduct a conversation. “So,” he says. “I’ve bin jogging to try and get a bit of weight off, but I thought I ought to make a concerted effort. What would you recommend?”  
Alex looks him up and down appraisingly, and not necessarily in a good way. “Well…” he begins. “You need to do lots of aerobic exercise, so I’d say you’re on the right track with the cross-trainer, but mix it up with some weights, too, maybe the rowing machine for a bit of variety. Don’t go hell for leather, just enough to make sure you’re out of breath.”  
“Well that won’t be hard,” says Ben.  
Alex smiles politely, and Ben can see that some people might find him quite attractive. “Exercise is only half the battle,” continues Alex. “You’ve gotta watch what you eat, too, and that’s probably more important than any exercise you’ll do.”  
“Got it. No more takeaways,” says Ben. He leaves a respectable pause and then asks, “So, how did you and Callum meet?”  
Alex suddenly looks misty-eyed. “Oh! I used to be his trainer back when he first joined the police.”  
“You’ve known each other that long!” exclaims Ben. Alex stares at him, looking confused, and Ben tempers his tone of voice. “I mean, I…uh, I thought he’d been in the police a fair few years?”  
“Well, yeah. We didn’t get together until much more recently, but not for want of me pestering him.” Alex gives a little laugh, a little ‘what am I like?’ shrug.  
“So you stalked him?” asks Ben. “Very romantic.”  
Alex laughs at what he assumes is Ben’s little joke. “Ha, not quite, but it might have got to that eventually. I couldn’t believe it when he suddenly said yes to a date.”  
Ben nods his head slowly, a theory beginning to form in his head. Callum had said the pair of them got together three or four months ago. About the time Ben had contacted Jay to say that he was going up for parole. Probably coincidence, but it makes his heart a little lighter in any case. “Bit unexpected, was it?”  
“Well, yeah. He’s only ever had one-night stands as far as I know,” says Alex. “He’s never struck me as someone who wanted to get serious.” He lowers his voice conspiratorially. “Between you and me, I think there might be some major heartbreak in his past. Can you dish any dirt?”  
“Me? No, sorry,” says Ben. “So, unexpectedly dating and now, here you are thinkin’ of movin’ in together.”  
“Uh…”  
Ben smiles easily. “That’s what he said, when we chatted at the party. Must be comin’ along nicely if you’re already thinkin’ about makin’ a commitment.”  
Alex looks even more confused, and a pleased little smile flits across his face. “He said that, did he?”  
“Well, yeah. He seemed quite sure. Said you know when you’ve found the one.” Ben makes a ‘what can you do?’ face.  
“Well…” Alex is speechless, processing this information.  
Ben remains silent for a beat, letting Alex do all the processing he needs. He thinks he’s said enough for one day. He looks around at the packed gym, and then adds conversationally, “I tell you what, mate. You must be making a packet out of this place. Gyms are obviously the business to be in.”  
Alex looks confused again. “Oh, I don’t own this place. I just work here.”  
“That right?” asks Ben, feeling a little skip of his heart. He’s just scored a little unexpected bonus. “Oh, sorry, I must’ve got the wrong end of the stick when I was talking to Callum.” He steps down from the cross-trainer. “Anyway, I’d better be gettin’ on. Places to be, people to see.” He claps Alex on his perfectly-toned arm. “Nice talking to ya though.”  
“Yeah, you too,” says Alex, looking like he’s just taken part in a conversation in a language he doesn’t understand.  
Ben walks a couple of steps and then turns back to him. “By the way, Al. Don’t let on that you know.”  
Alex looks even more confused.  
“About the plans for movin’ in together. He probably wants to make it a surprise.”  
“Oh! Yeah, yeah, of course.” Alex mimes zipping his mouth shut, and then smiles widely at Ben.  
As Ben gets to the door of the gym, he lets the smile he’s been holding in spread across his face. Well, well, Callum Highway fibbing. Who’d have thought it of such a fine upstanding police officer?

His good mood lasts until he gets back to the flat, at least. Who’s he kidding? He knows he can’t be with Callum, so why has he just done his best to jeopardise his chance of happiness with that nice-but-dim Labrador back there? It’s flattering to think that maybe Callum lied because somewhere, deep down, he still has a vestige of feeling for Ben, but probably a nice-but-dim Labrador is exactly what Callum’s been needing all these years. At least he won’t chew him up and spit him out, ruin his life like Ben so very nearly did.  
Ben trudges up the stairs to the flat, suddenly feeling hollow and sad, and lets himself in, heading to the kitchen where he sinks down at the table and holds his head in his hands.  
“I am such an idiot,” he says quietly to himself.  
“Well, yeah. That’s accepted wisdom,” says Jay, coming into the kitchen.  
Ben jumps at the sound of his voice and sits up straight. “Don’t sneak up on people!”  
“What ya done this time?” asks Jay, rolling his eyes.  
Ben shakes his head sadly. “I don’t want…I can’t be with Callum, but still I’m trying to fuck up his life.”  
Jay pulls out the chair opposite him and sits down, a frown upon his face. “Why, what ya done?” His tone is cautionary.  
“He ain’t good enough for him,” says Ben. “I don’t even think Cal likes him.”  
“Alex? That ain’t for you to say,” Jay reminds him. “You gave him up, remember?”  
“I know.”  
Jay scrutinises his face for a long while. “You want him back? Is that what’s goin’ on here?”  
“Nah, you don’t understand.” Ben grimaces. “It don’t matter if I want him back. I can’t do relationships. I’d just end up hurtin’ him all over again.” He scrubs his hands over his face. “I don’t want him back,” he says through his fingers.  
“You keep tellin’ yourself that, mate,” says Jay.

SEVEN  
Ben convinces himself that he’s got it all wrong because, let’s face it, that makes more sense than the other theory he’d briefly entertained. Callum hasn’t lied to him because he’s still in love with him, of course he hasn’t. He’s done it because he wants to drum it into him that he’s moved on. God knows Ben’s done similar before now. Regardless of whether it’s the truth for Callum right now, it probably will be one day soon. Callum will fall in love, and it might even be with Alex if he tries hard enough. Whatever, Ben’s receiving the message loud and clear: Callum’s looking forward; building a life for himself, and that life doesn’t include Ben. Not in a romantic sense, in any case. And that’s as it should be. Ben will only bring him heartache and hurt.  
That doesn’t mean Ben can’t be a friend to him though. He still wants to be around him, even if he knows he’s too toxic to be anything very important to the older man. Ben resolves to take whatever crumbs he can get; whatever he deserves.  
Which is why he finds himself in E20 with Callum, Alex, Lola, Jay and Whitney one Friday night a month later, watching Alex and Callum whisper in each other’s ears and share jokes meant only for the two of them.  
“Stop glowering,” says Lola in his ear.  
“I ain’t.” He glares at her and takes a long sip of his pint.  
“So, Ben,” says Whitney, sitting on the other side of him from Lola. “Managing to stay on the straight and narrow, are ya?”  
“Doin’ my best, Whit,” says Ben. “Doin’ my best. Tracked down the father of yer kids yet, have ya? Just the one is it, or are they brothers from a different father?”  
She gives him a look of disgust, and he presses home his advantage. “They locked in their bedroom tonight while you’re out partying, yeah?”  
She snorts. “You call this partying? You really have led a sheltered life, ain’t ya?” She tilts her head to one side. “Oh, I forgot. You’ve been somewhat detained lately, ain’t ya?”  
“Yeah, funny,” says Ben.  
“Now, now you two,” says Jay from beside Whitney. “Let’s all play nice, shall we? Ain’t it great that we’re all havin’ a night out together again, eh? Just like old times.” There’s a hint of desperation in his voice.  
“Not quite,” comments Whitney, just loud enough for Ben to hear. “Don’t remember Alex being here in the old days.”  
“What you sayin’?” asks Ben, immediately kicking himself for giving her another opportunity to have a go at him.  
She doesn’t disappoint. “I’m saying that the company’s improved since the bad old days.” She smiles sweetly at him. “Although the same bad old pennies seem to be here too.”  
“It’s been so long since I’ve been out for a drink,” says Lola, cutting in on their sparring. “You just can’t do it when you’ve got kids, can ya Whit?”  
“Not so much, no,” says Whitney, and there follows a long and boring conversation about the joys or otherwise of parenthood. Ben sits in the middle of it all, drinking steadily and hating his life more and more. He exchanges a glance with Jay, who seems to be finding his predicament hilarious.  
“It ain’t funny,” he says.  
“What, you’d rather be over here talking about football with me, would ya?”  
Alex looks around at Jay’s mention of ‘football’. Of course he would be into football, Ben thinks.  
“Did you see the match on Wednesday?” asks Alex, looking hopefully at Ben.  
“Uh, no mate,” says Ben. “I’m not really a football kind of bloke. Unless you count leering at ‘em in their shorts.”  
Alex’s eyebrows hit his hairline. “Uh…oh! You’re gay. I had no idea!”  
Whitney snorts, and Jay stares at Alex in disbelief. “Seriously? You didn’t notice any signs at all?”  
“Need to get yer gaydar fixed, don’t you Al?” asks Ben.  
Callum places a gentle hand on the back of Alex’s neck. “Leave him alone, you two.” He gives Ben, in particular, a warning stare.  
“How’s the policin’, Cal?” asks Jay, not-so-subtly trying to change the subject. “You arrested anyone I know lately?”  
Once again, Callum blossoms as he talks about his career, and Ben is mesmerised by the way his eyes sparkle and his face comes alive as he describes some of the scrapes he’s found himself in. “I tell you what though,” he says eventually. “There’s so much more I wish I could do. Some of these blokes we pull in, no more than kids, most of ‘em, and you see them again and again. I wish I could sit down with ‘em and give’ em the support they need to stay on the straight and narrow.” He sighs. “But all I do is book ‘em and read ‘em their rights. We’ve got a right little revolving door down that station.”  
“I doubt most of ‘em would listen anyway,” says Whitney. “Proper little scrotes, most of ‘em.” She throws a sideways glance at Ben.  
“Yeah but Callum’s a saint,” says Ben. “Always seein’ the good in everyone.” He means it sincerely, but Callum glares at him.  
“Nothin’ wrong with that,” he says. “I ain’t naïve.”  
“I know that,” sighs Ben. “I weren’t -”  
“So, you all settled into your new flat, Ben?” asks Lola.  
He tears his eyes away from Callum with an effort and turns to Lola. “Think so. Still got to get a few bits and bobs, but yeah, all moved in.”  
“Oh, mate,” says Jay. “While I remember, you’ve still got our spare keys. We’re gonna need ‘em for Cal.”  
“Callum?” repeats Ben, swinging back round to look between his ex-boyfriend and Jay. “Why?”  
“Because we’re the Walford Home for Waifs and Strays,” says Jay with a roll of his eyes.  
“I said I’ll only stay a couple o’ nights,” says Callum.  
“Nah, you’re alright mate,” replies Jay. “I’m only pullin’ yer leg. Stay as long as ya want. We’ve just decontaminated the place after Ben moved out.”  
Callum half-smiles at that, as if he’s not sure if Jay’s telling the truth.  
“Excuse me,” says Ben, feeling that he’s lost control of the conversation. “Why is Cal living with you now?”  
“He ain’t livin’ with us,” supplies Lola. “We’re helpin’ him out for a while.”  
“The flat above mine flooded,” explains Callum. “Me neighbour left the bath running and my gaff’s ruined too, so the landlord’s havin’ to refurbish it.”  
“Yeah, and I bet he bumps yer rent up when you move back in, an’ all,” says Jay, before taking a swig of his lager.  
“He better not,” says Callum. “I’m already payin’ a fortune.” Alex pats him soothingly on the arm and gives him a sympathetic look. When Ben clocks it and scoffs, Callum gives him another warning glare.  
“Anyway,” says Jay. “We need the keys back Ben.”  
“Yeah, yeah, I’ll drop ‘em round tomorrow. I’ll call in at the salon, shall I?”  
“Yeah,” says Lola. Then she adds, “No, tell ya what, I’m doin’ a stock take tomorrow. Can you drop ‘em off in the flat and then pull the door to when you come back out?”  
“Yeah, course.”

Ben knows he should be grateful that he’s got friends – and Whitney - who want to spend time with him, but as he lets himself back into his new flat just before midnight, he can’t help but be hit by the same mood that seems to be a staple part of his life these days. The feeling that something’s missing. Every aspect of life just seems a little dull and colourless these days. The evening he’s just had in E20 has bored him rigid, and he feels relief admitting it to himself, but god knows how he’s going to get through the next fifty years if it’s nights like that are all he’s got to look forward to.  
He closes the door behind himself and flops down onto the couch. He feels listless and dissatisfied, and wonders if he needs sex. Grabbing his phone from his back pocket he scrolls through the app he re-installed on it after getting out of prison, but none of the blokes on it appeal. They’re all generic, bland. Uninspiring. He wouldn’t be at all surprised to find Alex on it, he’s a similar type - although goody-two shoes Alex probably wouldn’t ever dream of being on an app like that. He’s the sort who goes for true romance over no-strings sex. He probably thinks unicorns exist, too. Ben sighs heavily and throws the phone to one side. He stares into space, remembering how animated Callum had looked when he was chatting about his job. Ben did the right thing all those years back. It might have almost killed him, but sometimes it helps to be reminded of that fact.

It’s nearly lunchtime the next day when Ben lets himself into Jay and Lola’s flat to drop the spare keys off. He heads into the kitchen to place them on the counter, and peruses the newest collection of Will’s paintings that have been stuck to the fridge with a magnet. There’s a blue box on wheels that seems to be a car. The little boy seems to have a thing for cars, and Ben wonders idly if he’ll grow up to be a mechanic. Next to it is a picture of a group of people, stick-thin bodies and big pink orbs for faces. Each person is labelled in Will’s untidy scrawl: mummy, daddy, Lexi, Will and - holding Will’s hand - Ben. Ben feels quite choked when he sees it. He was never really around to see Lexi’s childish paintings. He bets he probably wasn’t included in her family groupings at the time.  
A noise behind him makes him turn, and his mouth goes instantly dry. Callum has come into the kitchen, shower-wet and dressed only in a towel that hangs low upon his waist, drying his hair with another one. He catches sight of Ben and instantly grabs the towel around his waist to ensure it doesn’t slip. “Shit! I didn’t know you was here.”  
Ben opens and closes his mouth, before he remembers the art of speech. “Sorry. I, uh…I just stopped by to drop off the keys for ya.”  
“Right.” Callum stands stock still and looks wary, as if he’s just discovered a burglar and is trying not to provoke him. “Thanks.”  
“You, um…you OK?” asks Ben, trying to maintain eye contact and definitely not stare at Callum’s abs.  
Callum takes a while to respond. He blinks a couple of times first. “Yeah. Just. Got off shift. I should, uh…” He points behind himself with his free hand, and takes a step back towards the door.  
“So why ain’t ya stayin’ with Alex while your flat’s being sorted?” asks Ben, desperate to make him stay. He sees a strange combination of emotions flit across Callum’s face.  
“He, uh…no room.”  
“No room?” exclaims Ben. “You only need half his bed, surely?”  
“It ain’t like... He…” Callum heaves a huge sigh, looking resigned. “He lives with his parents, OK?” He glares at the incredulous look that spreads across Ben’s face.  
“What? And they don’t like him bringing blokes back?”  
Callum looks like he wants to strangle him now. “He ain’t out.”  
“He’s what?” Ben flat-out laughs. “He’s in his thirties and he ain’t out? Seriously?”  
“Yeah, alright,” says Callum irritably. “Not everyone came out of the womb declaring themselves out and proud like you did.”  
“Well, no, but even you was out before you was thirty, and you was a real late bloomer.”  
Callum shakes his head in annoyance. “You are such an arse, you know that?”  
Ben is still grinning widely. He’d thought they were sharing a joke about the ridiculousness of Alex’s situation, but now he can see that Callum isn’t laughing at all. He sobers up immediately. “Sorry. Sorry. It’s just…well you can’t half pick ‘em, eh?”  
Callum bristles. “Yeah, you’re right. If it ain’t the closet case it’s the self-centred, callous psycho who treats me like shit, right? I tell you what though, Ben. I know which one I’d rather have.”  
His words seem to echo in the terrible silence that follows, and then Ben does what he always does when he’s hurt. He lashes out. “Well you ain’t so squeaky clean, are ya? What was all that guff about yer boyfriend owning the gym on Bridge Street, hey? Or the fact that you’re so in love with your boyfriend that you’re gonna move in with him? Lies, Cal! You’re a LIAR. So don’t act so high and mighty with me!”  
He pushes past Callum and heads out of the flat. He hears Callum call his name, but he slams the door behind himself and storms down the stairs to the street. Once outside, he leans his forehead against the wall and takes deep, tormented breaths. He’s so angry right now. Angry and hurt and frustrated at himself. Because even feeling as devastated as he is, he’d happily have lapped the water off Callum’s chest if he’d let him.

EIGHT  
The year grinds on. Spring turns to summer, and then all of a sudden there’s a chill in the mornings and t-shirts are replaced by jumpers and jackets. The nights draw in, and Ben settles into a routine of work at the car lot, pints at the Vic with Jay, and hook-ups on a Friday night. He spends time getting to know Lexi properly again, and minds Will for Lola and Jay when they want a bit of time to themselves. Kathy invites him for dinner every Wednesday evening.  
Thus, is his life measured out, in routine and duty, and no surprises. He steers clear of Callum. The gang still meet up for an evening out on the last Friday of every month, but Ben makes sure he’s otherwise engaged with the special friends he meets through his app. Seeing Callum with Alex wasn’t helping him to move on, so he goes cold turkey. If he sees him out and about, he changes direction abruptly. A couple of times Callum calls out to him in the street, but having a hearing problem can have its advantages. He scurries on his way and kids himself that he’s not running away.  
Whitney, of all people, drops into the car lot occasionally when she’s at a loose end, and they achieve a wary understanding. He has no idea why she starts coming, but finds he begins to look forward to the sight of her face peering round the door. He would never say they’re best friends, but they’ve both been scarred by life, not to mention Callum, and that brings its own comradeship. She never had found a decent bloke. The father of her kids left while the youngest was only four months old, and she’d scrimped and scraped to bring them up on her own, all while running a market stall. Her plans to sell her own designs had never come to anything, but nevertheless she managed to keep their heads above water. She’d sworn off love for life though. Ben develops a grudging respect for her, though he’d never tell her that.  
He understands now that Callum truly is over him. He’s made that very clear. Ben had wanted him to move on, and he’d done everything he could to convince Callum that he wasn’t worth waiting for. It had taken Callum’s outburst in Jay’s kitchen to make Ben realise that he’s succeeded way beyond what he could ever have imagined. Callum has come to hate him. Yet however heartbroken Ben is, he knows he’s followed the right course of action. It might not be the first word that would come to mind for those who know him, but he’s been honourable, perhaps for the first time in his life, so he can’t be hurt that Callum’s done exactly what he wanted him to do. Ben knows he’s toxic, and he knows that Callum’s better off without him. He was a fool to think otherwise.  
And if the guys Ben picks up through his app all tend to be tall with dark hair and blue eyes, well that’s just coincidence. It doesn’t mean a thing.  
And if there’s a voice in his head that sounds like Phil, telling him he’s fucked up everything he’s ever touched, well that’s just one more fact of life he has to deal with. There’s no point fighting it.  
Bizarrely, he finds he misses the old man, though he pushes the feeling away every time it raises its head. It feels like he spent most of his life doing what he did to please Phil, or as a rebellion against Phil, and now that he’s gone there’s nothing to guide Ben’s behaviour. His life feels rudderless, like no one cares if he’s good or bad; sensible or stupid. Not only is Phil gone, but Callum’s not there as a reason for Ben to stick to the straight and narrow, and Ben can feel the pull of the illicit again, if only for the danger and the sense of excitement it might bring to an otherwise dull and unremarkable life.  
The only thing that does still bring a thrill, however fleeting, is that split second of first meeting a hook-up, coming face to face for the first time and sizing each other up. Wondering if he’s going to come out of this encounter feeling sated or saddened, dead or alive.  
If he’s honest, he’s not particularly bothered either way with regard to the latter set of possibilities.  
In the main, he uses the app on his phone to meet guys, but every now and again he fancies a bit more of a chase; a banquet rather than fast food, and on those occasions he goes to the Albert.  
Which is where he finds himself one rainy Friday night in late November. The bad weather hasn’t put the punters off and there’s quite the crowd there. The music is loud and the punters are high-spirited. He’s at the bar ordering himself his third beer when he feels a tug on his arm and a voice says his name.  
He closes his eyes momentarily and curses his luck. He recognises that voice.  
“You’re makin’ a habit of creepin’ up beside me, ain’t ya?” he says as he half-turns towards him.  
“Haven’t seen you for ages,” says Alex, sounding as if he genuinely thinks they’re friends. “Where’ve you been?”  
“Why ain’t you out with the heterosexuals tonight?” asks Ben by way of response. “Thought this was your night for a get-together.”  
“Yeah, Lexi and Jay’ve gone to a quiz night at the pub,” says Alex, rolling his eyes about these quaint customs the straight people have, in solidarity with Ben. “I don’t think Whit could get a babysitter.”  
“Why ain’t you gone with ‘em?” asks Ben.  
“Just wanted a change,” says Alex. “Wanted to be with our people tonight.”  
Ben scoffs, and opens his mouth to make a scathing comment about closet cases not being ‘his people’ at all, but Alex speaks first.  
“Why don’t you come and join us? I bet Callum would love to see you.”  
Ben catches sight of a hottie on the other side of the bar and is momentarily distracted. He bets Callum would really NOT love to see him. He turns back to Alex with an effort and says, “No disrespect, Al, but I’m here to pull, and you’re cramping me style.”  
Alex’s face falls. “Oh, right. Another time then, yeah?”  
Ben ignores him and stares back at the bloke he’s singled out. The bloke has noticed he’s being eyed up and is pretending to ignore it for now. Ben can wait, but at his side, he senses that Alex is hesitating. He wills him to leave him alone and walk away, but eventually he leans back in and says, “You don’t like me much, do you Ben?”  
Not taking his eyes away from the bloke on the other side of the bar, Ben says, “I don’t know you, Al. I’ve got no opinion either way.”  
“Oh, I think you do,” says Alex. “I think you’ve got quite a strong opinion.”  
Ben snorts. “Listen, are ya tryin’ to chat me up, Al? Cos I ought to tell ya, you’re not really my type. Now why don’tcha run along?” He turns to stare Alex out, but Alex stands his ground, and Ben supposes he should admire his perseverance.  
He can see that Alex is working up to something, and eventually he says, “You never said you and Cal used to be an item.”  
“No?”  
“No.”  
Ben turns to face him more fully. The bloke looks genuinely anguished about something that’s ancient history. “Well, it was a long time ago.”  
“But he never mentioned it either.” Alex shuffles his feet and edges closer. “Is that weird? Or is it just me that thinks it’s weird? I had to wait for Ian to let it slip when I bumped into him in the market.”  
Ben very much doubts Ian just ‘let it slip’. There’d have been a very definite intention there. “Why would it be weird?”  
“Well, it wouldn’t… unless he was trying to hide something.”  
“Like what?”  
“I dunno.” Alex looks like he’s waiting for Ben to enlighten him, and Ben huffs a sigh.  
“Look, we used to date. He became a polis-man and I became a killer again. That’s probably why he didn’t want you to know.”  
A look of minor alarm passes over Alex’s face, and Ben can see him battling to conceal it. “What d’you mean, you became a killer AGAIN?”  
“Ah,” Ben adopts an apologetic expression. “Well, it weren’t the first time I went inside for killing someone. I mean, I ain’t a serial killer or nothing. I’ve just had really bad luck.”  
“And he knew that when you were dating?” asks Alex. “That you’d killed someone?”  
“Well, not at first. I told him though. In the spirit of full disclosure.”  
“So that’s why you split up?”  
Ben is beginning to lose his patience. “No. We split up cos I went inside again. Keep up, Al.”  
“For killing someone.”  
“Yeah, but that weren’t the reason.” Ben glances back across the bar and realises the bloke he was eyeing up has disappeared. He curses under his breath, but Alex isn’t giving up yet.  
“So why - ?”  
“Look,” Ben says firmly. “If you wanna know chapter and verse you should talk to Cal, shouldn’t ya? He’s the one you’re in the relationship with.”  
And with that, he pushes his way back through the crowd and heads home, pissed off and tired.

He can’t even be bothered hooking up with someone when he gets home, so he makes himself a drink and settles down to watch the evening news. He’s just nodding off to the sound of the closing credits when there’s a sharp knock on his door.  
He’s leaning against the doorframe, looking cold and angry.  
“You’ve been avoiding me.”  
There’s a sort of inevitability about the fact that he’s here. Ben reflects that he’s only surprised it hasn’t happened sooner. You can’t run for ever.  
“I’ve bin avoiding ya for five months, Cal. You only just noticed?” He turns away tiredly.  
Callum follows him into the room and shuts the door behind himself. “Don’t try and be clever. It don’t suit ya.” He stands too close to Ben, invading his personal space, and for once in his life Ben takes a step back.  
“Why did ya tell Alex about us?” asks Callum. He looks intent on saying his piece, focussed and angry.  
“I didn’t realise I was your dirty little secret,” says Ben, folding his arms and preparing to defend himself. “In any case, he already knew. I just filled in some o’ the gaps.” He pauses, letting that sink in. “Where is the boyfriend, anyway?”  
His question throws Callum off balance. He falters, and for the first time in this encounter looks unsure of himself. “I..uh. I sent him home. We had a row.”  
“Oh no!” says Ben, with patently false concern. “Don’t tell me there’s trouble in paradise?”  
“Yeah, you’d love that wouldn’t ya?” says Callum, some of his earlier bravado returning. “Ain’t messed up my life lately, have ya? You’ll be wanting another chance right about now.”  
Ben scoffs. “Believe it or not, Callum, my life don’t revolve around you. I’ll tell ya somethin’ though. If I WAS inclined to split you and lover-boy up, I’d be doin’ you a favour.” His tone softens in spite of himself, giving something away that he’d not intended. “He ain’t good enough for ya. You’re punching well below your weight with that one.”  
“That ain’t for you to say!” exclaims Callum. He begins pacing around the room, exasperated. “We was alright until you came back on the scene.”  
“You was barely even together before I came back on the scene!” Ben points out. “In fact, if I was the suspicious sort, I might even suspect that you only GOT together cos I came back on the scene.”  
Callum sneers. “Don’t flatter yourself, Ben. Believe it or not, my life don’t revolve around you either.”  
“No?” Ben crosses to the door again, ready to suggest Callum leaves. “So, why’re you here right now then?”  
Callum comes up short. He opens his mouth and then closes it again, and then with anguish in his voice, exclaims, “God! Why d’you always have ta…urghh!”  
He paces again, scrubbing his hands though his hair, and when he turns back to Ben there’s a hungry, haunted look in his eyes. He pauses for a second, and then he’s crowding Ben back against the wall and smashing their lips together. He kisses him frantically, and grips his hips so tight Ben thinks he’ll leave bruises even through his jeans.  
All the breath leaves Ben’s lungs, and he gasps into the kiss, furiously trying to regain equilibrium and clinging to Callum like a drowning man. He pulls back, panting heavily, to search Callum’s eyes, and sees nothing but pure want in them. He knows he’s chancing his luck, but he takes Callum firmly by the hand and leads him into his bedroom, hoping against hope that the older man doesn’t pull away. Callum doesn’t resist. In fact, he’s grabbing at Ben’s shirt as soon as they hit the bed, pulling it roughly over his head and tossing it to one side, then attacking his jeans.  
Ben’s head is filled with a litany of ‘finally, finally, finally’ and he tears at Callum’s clothes with no finesse and scarcely more patience. He’s waited so long for this. Every inch of Callum’s body he uncovers is beautiful, and he kisses and licks at all the places he’s never forgotten, in over ten years of absence.  
“You got anything?” asks Callum gruffly, and Ben nods towards the bedside drawer. He strokes himself while Callum sorts himself out with condom and lube. Callum’s movements are quick, perfunctory, and in no time he’s pinning Ben down onto the bed and squirming in between his legs. The first brush of their cocks has Ben seeing stars, and they gasp in unison, a look almost of shock passing between them.  
It spurs them both on and they go to town on each other, biting, licking, nuzzling one another, groaning and gasping as sensitive spots are rediscovered and new ones created. Callum’s a firm weight on Ben, anchoring him in place and controlling everything, and Ben wouldn’t have it any other way. He grips the older man tight around his waist and submits completely to him.  
He was hard from the moment Callum slammed him against the wall, and he feels like he could come just from the friction between them, but he wants more. “Want. You. Inside.” he gasps.  
Callum lifts himself off Ben then and sits back on his heels, knees between Ben’s legs, his hands resting on Ben’s thighs. His eyes rove over Ben’s body spread out before him, scrutinising every aspect like he’s committing it to memory. To Ben, he looks like some kind of Greek god in the golden light spilling in from the room next door, his body still well-toned even though he’s approaching forty, and his beautiful cock jutting out proudly. He reaches almost tentatively to slide a lube-slickened finger inside Ben, and watches Ben’s face as he twists it just right to hit the spot that sends him wild. After all this time Callum’s never forgotten just how to get it right first time. Ben lets out a guttural groan at the sudden sensation and scrabbles at the bedcovers with his hands.  
“Please, Cal, just do it. Don’t need you to loosen me up. Just stick it in me,” he begs.  
Callum’s eyes rove over his face, looking for reassurance that Ben wants him to dispense with any more preparation. Whatever he sees convinces him, because with a barely perceptible nod, he positions himself. Pushing Ben’s knee up towards his stomach, he lines his cock up with his hole and eases himself into him, watching his expression all the while as the slide of his cock breaches and burns. When he’s bottomed out inside Ben, he can’t maintain his control any longer, and Ben sees a look almost of pain spread across the older man’s face. He rolls his head back with a groan and closes his eyes, and begins thrusting hard and steady.  
Ben anchors himself with a hand curled around Callum’s neck. The pain of being penetrated with next to no prep is overwhelming, but there’s a masochistic part of him that thinks he deserves it. He rides it out until the pain recedes to be replaced with the utmost pleasure, his breath coming in laboured moans. He doesn’t want to miss a second, so he keeps his eyes open and watches the play of emotions over Callum’s face as the pace picks up. Callum’s breathing is heavy, keeping time with his thrusts, and he lets out a groan every now and then as Ben tightens around him.  
“Missed you,” breathes Ben. “Missed you, missed you, missed you.”  
Ben pulls Callum down to kiss him on the mouth, but he turns his head to the side so Ben peppers his jaw and neck with kisses instead. Ben understands that the intensity is overwhelming. He’s feeling it too, like there’s almost too much stimulation to cope with. Callum’s eyes are screwed tight shut as he fucks into him. The pace is relentless now and Ben begins tilting his hips to slam up towards Callum as he thrusts into him. There’s something desperate about it all. It’s about points being made and scores being settled and history being laid to rest, and it’s definitely not about romance.  
Ben knows the exact instant Callum begins to come. He tenses, and his eyes screw shut even tighter, and then he lets out the most guttural groan Ben’s ever heard. His stomach brushes against Ben’s cock as he climaxes, and it’s enough to tip Ben over the edge too. His brain whites out for a second and he experiences the most body-shuddering orgasm he thinks he’s ever had. There’s a second where it feels like the world has freeze-framed around them and then Callum collapses on top of him, head on his shoulder, and they’re both panting and sweaty and boneless.  
Ben sinks his head back into the pillow and marvels that he could come without even touching himself. He strokes Callum’s back softly, runs his hands lightly up and down his arms and says again, “Missed you.”  
He smiles drunkenly to himself. He suddenly feels like everything’s right with the world again, like he can make a life for himself with this beautiful man lying next to him. He feels like he’s finally come home.  
He nuzzles Callum’s hair. “That was pretty amazing,” he says. “Anyone would think you hadn’t done that in a while.”

There’s a loaded silence. Callum turns his head towards Ben but avoids making eye contact. He looks almost shamefaced. Ben is puzzled, but then everything begins to fall into place.

“You ain’t, have ya?” he asks in wonder. “He don’t let ya.” He shifts to look more closely at Callum. “I’m right, ain’t I? Babe?”

Callum stirs then, rolling off Ben and swinging round to sit on the edge of the bed. “I ain’t your babe, Ben. I ain’t been that for a long time.”

Ben reaches out a hand to stroke his back, and Callum flinches away from him. “Why are you with him if he don’t even - ”  
Callum drops his head into his hands. “I shouldn’ta done this,” he says.  
Ben sits up. He’s incredulous. He laughs. “What?”  
“I shouldn’ta done this!” Callum stands up and begins hunting for his clothes where they’ve been tossed haphazardly around the room. He pulls on his underpants and shrugs back into his t-shirt. “I’ve got a boyfriend,” he says in an anguished tone.  
“Yeah, a boyfriend who won’t even let ya fuck him,” says Ben. “A closet case who still lives with his parents.”  
Callum’s pulling on his jeans now. He towers over Ben as he fastens the zip. “I’ve got a boyfriend,” he repeats, “and you- ”  
“What about me?” asks Ben.  
“You’re just you,” says Callum, his face twisted with an emotion Ben can’t identify. He picks up the rest of his clothes and heads for the door. “This ain’t happening again,” he says. Then he’s gone. Ben hears him stride through the living room and then the sound of the front door opening and slamming shut, and he’s left in silence.  
He sinks back down onto the bed, his heart frozen, and it feels like he’s back in that prison again all those years ago.

NINE  
When Ben jerks awake he immediately suppresses a shiver. The cold has soaked through to his very bones - the heating’s been off since 10pm and he’s been on the couch in the living room all night. After Callum had left, he’d finally stirred enough to dig around on the bedroom floor to find his t-shirt and boxers to put back on, uncovering in amongst the rest of his clothes the knotted-off condom Callum had discarded before he left. He’d stared down at it as if it was forensic evidence in a crime scene. In a sense, he’d thought it probably was. There’d definitely been a death there that evening. He’d gathered up all his courage and picked it up between thumb and forefinger, then gingerly carried it out to drop it in the bin in the kitchen.  
He’d wandered in a daze through to the living room and shut off the telly that had still been playing throughout their charade of a sex scene, and then he’d sunk down onto the couch staring blindly ahead of him into a void.  
Now, he rubs a hand wearily over his face. The light is grey and he guesses it must still be early. He could only have got a couple of hours’ sleep. He remembers seeing the clock on his phone show that it was 3.20am, so he was still awake at that point.  
He feels numb. For the third time in his life, the shining future he thought he had laid out before him has been snatched away; disappearing like a mirage in the desert. Paul; then Callum before everything went to shit and Ben went to prison; and now Callum again. If he’d still entertained the hope of a chance that good things could happen to him in his life, he’s got the message loud and clear now. Love is not for the likes of him. He’s unlovable. The fact that Callum is choosing a fragment of a relationship with Alex, a man with zero personality, over him really rams the message home.  
In all Ben’s bewildered thoughts last night, he’d realised he was beginning to understand what had made Phil the way he was. The old man’s heart had hardened imperceptibly as the years went by, and he’d eventually become a fortress, unable even to love his own son. The same thing will happen to Ben. No one will get in because he won’t let them anymore. Maybe Phil didn’t have it so wrong.  
The little sleep Ben had managed had been plagued with vivid dreams; dreams of Phil foremost among them, but also the final, fateful argument with Tubbs. The threats to Callum’s future career, the derision and scorn with which the burly con had described Ben’s feelings for Callum, and that punch - born out of frustration and anger, yes - but also out of a desire to defend Callum’s honour, however misguided that might have been. The one insignificant action that had changed so many lives forever. The action that Ben had performed hundreds of time before, but never with such devastating impact.  
His dreams of Phil had been more fragmented, a montage of partial conversations and hurled insults. ‘You’ll never amount to anything. Yer an embarrassment.’ ‘I wish to god you’d stayed in South Africa’. ‘You’re no son of mine, yer pathetic’. ‘Get of my house, I’m finished with ya’. And on and on. All the remarks that Ben had had swirling around constantly in his subconscious for years.  
But the one remark that summarised all Phil’s disdain hadn’t even come from him. In a short, brutal sentence, it was Callum who had encapsulated all the reasons why Ben was unlovable: “You’re just you.”  
Ben’s body is wracked by shivers now. He grabs for his phone to check the time. Ten to seven. Time to get ready to go and open up the car lot. Saturdays are one of his busiest days. Seeing the date set out next to the time, he realises it’ll be two years tomorrow since Phil died.  
He heads for the shower and sets it to the hottest temperature he can stand, hoping it will warm him up again if he stands under it for long enough. His ass is throbbing, feeling the effects of the lack of preparation he’d stupidly insisted on last night. Stripping off his clothes, he glances at his face in the mirror above the washbasin. He’s shockingly pale. He looks dead behind the eyes. The steam from the shower starts to obscure his reflection and he watches himself disappear little by little, feeling relief that he can no longer hold his own gaze. He turns away and steps into the shower, letting the water roll over him; the heat feeling like hundreds of sharp needles on his skin.  
Once showered, when it comes to getting dressed he just doesn’t have the energy to don his suit and tie, like he normally would for a day at the car lot. He opens the wardrobe door to take out his shirt and ends up staring into space again. At this rate, it’s going to take him most of the day even to get ready.  
In the end, he settles for pulling on an old pair of jeans and a jumper that he’d thrown on top of the clothes hamper a couple of days before, and then heads back to the couch for another few hours of staring into space. He turns on the telly and stares at that instead, registering nothing of the gaudy, artificially cheerful Saturday morning cooking shows that play back to back.  
Mid-morning, there’s a knock at his door. He ignores it, even as his ever-optimistic heart lurches, wondering if it’s Callum come to tell him he’s made the biggest mistake of his life and wants to take back what he said last night.  
The knocking persists and so eventually, if only to shut it up, Ben gets up and answers the door. It’s Jay.  
“Why’s the car lot all shut up mate?”  
He’s looking confused, but as he takes in Ben’s appearance his confusion is replaced by concern. “You alright? You sickening for sommat?”  
Ben scoffs sarcastically at the irony. “Nah. Just fancied a day off.” His voice is croaky. He clears his throat and goes to shut the door in Jay’s face, but Jay resists and pushes him gently back into the room.  
“What’s goin’ on, Ben? You look like shit.”  
“Cheers.”  
“Nah, seriously. You ill?”  
Ben crosses the room to sit back down. Jay can do what he wants. Stay or go, it makes no odds to Ben.  
Jay closes the door behind himself and comes over to sit next to Ben, twisting on the small couch to face him. He stares at Ben hard.  
Ben feels like he might crumple under the scrutiny. He bites his lip and takes a deep breath, avoiding eye contact.  
“You ain’t alright, are ya?” asks Jay.  
Ben can feel what might be tears bubbling up inside him. His chest aches and his eyes itch. He takes another deep breath to head them off, and says in a rough voice. “So, Callum came round last night.”  
Jay smiles uncertainly. “Yeah? That’s good, ain’t it?” He takes a closer look at Ben. “Ain’t it good?”  
“We had sex.” Ben can’t bring himself to describe what happened last night in anything but the most basic of terms. It wasn’t sleeping together. It wasn’t making love, even though he might have been kidding himself that it was at the time. It was just sex.  
Jay is looking even more uncertain. “Ah. OK.”  
Ben huffs a small, humourless laugh. “Yeah. Ah.”  
“And… it was bad?” asks Jay. “Come on mate, give me somethin’ to go on here. I got no idea what’s goin’ on with ya.”  
Ben takes another deep breath. “We had sex, and then he told me it weren’t never happenin’ again. I ain’t good enough for him. He’d rather have that no-mark of a sham boyfriend he’s been knockin’ around with.”  
“Mate,” says Jay sympathetically. “That’s shit.” He reaches out and rubs awkwardly at Ben’s arm. “I’m sorry.”  
“Ain’t your fault, is it?” says Ben, in an artificially bright tone. “I’ll get over it.”  
“Yeah, but I know how much you still lov - ”  
“I don’t,” says Ben hurriedly. He sees the disbelief in Jay’s expression and quickly looks away. He huffs another laugh. “Tell you the truth, mate, I’ve dodged a bullet, ain’t I? Relationships ain’t nothin’ but hassle.”  
Jay knows better than to argue the point.  
“I just need a day to lick me wounds,” Ben continues, “and then I’ll be right as rain again.”  
Jay sits silently, just staring at him. It begins to creep him out.  
“What?” he asks irritably.  
“You, uh…” Jay shifts awkwardly, then takes a deep breath. “Well… you ain’t gonna do anything stupid again, are ya?”  
Ben tries to deflect with humour. “I’ve just told ya mate, weren’t ya listening? I ain’t doin’ relationships anymore. That’s the only stupid thing I could do right now.”  
Admittedly, it’s a pretty poor attempt at humour, but Jay ignores it completely in favour of remaining deadly serious. “Cos there’s a lot of people who care about you,” he continues. “They’d be devastated if anything happened. Just think of them when you’re feelin’ low.”  
Ben’s not sure he believes him. He stands up, signalling their chat is at an end. “I told ya mate, I’ll be fine in a day or two. I just wanna be on my own for now.”  
Jay looks unconvinced, but takes Ben’s cue and stands up too. As they cross to the door, he turns back to Ben. “Listen, mate, I don’t often say this, but,” he steps forward and gives Ben an awkward hug. “I love ya.”  
Ben pats his back and feels like, of the two of them, he’s the one comforting Jay. “You told Lo about these feelings you’re having?” he asks, trying to lighten the mood. “You ain’t really my type though, sorry mate.”  
“Yeah, yeah,” says Jay, looking faintly embarrassed. “Can’t be serious about anything, can ya?”  
“Honestly, I’ll be fine,” says Ben. “You don’t have to make declarations of undying love. But thanks.” He shuffles his feet awkwardly. “You, uh…you know. Same.”

TEN  
He manages to get some sleep just after lunch, still lying on the couch but with his bathrobe over him to ward off the cold, and wakes feeling just as tired as he had before. He thinks maybe he could manage some food, so he pops a couple of slices in the toaster and makes himself a drink.  
He sees from the telly listings that they’re showing West Side Story in an hour’s time, so he resolves to watch it. Nothing better for heartbreak than a story about lovers separated by death. He’d tried to get Callum to watch it back in the day, but Callum had quickly become irritated by all the dancing and singing. He wasn’t really a ‘musicals’ kind of bloke. “Why can’t they just talk to each other, instead of all this flingin’ ‘emselves around and warbling?” he’d complained.  
“Cos then it wouldn’t be a musical, babe,” Ben had explained patiently.  
Nevertheless, he’d refused to allow Callum’s indifference to colour his own enjoyment of the film. He hasn’t watched it for years, for obvious reasons, but he finds he still remembers every lyric of every song – and most of the dialogue too.  
It’s just drawing to a close, and the room is getting darker as the light fades from the day, when there comes another knock on his door. He curses at being drawn back to real life so abruptly, but gets up to answer it anyway, switching the light on as he goes.  
This time, it’s Lexi.  
“Hello princess,” says Ben, his irritation gone immediately. “This is a nice surprise.”  
“Hello dad. I thought I’d come round for a girly night. You busy though?” She looks a little bit sheepish, and her remark sounds a little bit rehearsed.  
He gives her a hard stare. “Jay sent you, did he?”  
She always was a bad liar. The look of innocence she’s giving him is pure exaggeration, and her voice is a little too high to be natural. “Nah, course not. Why?”  
“You always were a rubbish liar,” he says, holding the door open wider. “Come on in then. What ya got in mind?”  
“Just a catch-up. Maybe a movie.” She shrugs off her jacket, looking shamefaced. “I ain’t got any money for snacks though. You couldn’t pop round the shop and get some, could ya?”  
“Tell ya what,” suggests Ben. “You eaten yet?” When she shakes her head, he continues. “Me neither, really. How about I go and get us a Chinese?”  
She smiles widely at him. “Even better idea, dad.”

He heads to the Chinese, glad it’s dark out now. He can keep his head down and hopefully not bump into anyone he might be trying to avoid. He curses his luck though when he gets to the takeaway and sees Ian through the window, waiting for an order and holding forth about something to the guy behind the counter.  
Ben pushes open the door and crosses to look at the menu on the counter.  
“Oh, you’ll love this!” says Ian by way of greeting. “The Minute Mart building. D’you know what they’re going to do with it?”  
“No idea,” says Ben, hoping he’s not going to have a long wait for his food if Ian’s going to be hanging around. “Luxury flats?”  
Ian scoffs. “Much more ridiculous than that.” He pauses and puffs his chest out, building up the suspense. Ben takes the opportunity to place his order. The guy behind the counter looks relieved to have something to do rather than listen to Ian’s rant. He punches the order into his computer and then leans forward and says in a quiet voice, “I try to make it quick for you.” Ben smiles his thanks.  
“Much more ridiculous,” repeats Ian. “A ‘project’” (he makes quote marks in the air with his fingers) “A ‘project’ for ex-offenders. Doing up bikes and selling ‘em on, would you believe?”  
Ben makes an approving face.  
“I mean,” snuffles Ian, enjoying his own humour as ever. “Give offenders bikes and it just means they can make a quicker getaway.” He shakes his head in disbelief. “Who on earth thinks up these hare-brained schemes, eh? And they didn’t even do any public consultation! What makes ‘em think we want those types in the middle of our community? I’ve a good mind to start a petition.”  
Ben looks at him in amazement. “You do know half this community is made up of ex-cons, Ian? People like me…and Bobby. Your son, remember him? D’you not think a project like that would’ve been just what he needed to set him back on the straight and narrow?”  
“That’s besides the point,” insists Ian. “They could have all sorts working at that place. It’s a bleedin’ liberty.”  
“What, you mean ‘all sorts’ like killers?” asks Ben. “Again, like me and your son?” He wonders at how Bobby’s turned out to be such a decent young man, with a father like Ian. Ian’s not in the same league as Phil when it comes to sadism, but he’s no better at giving love or care, or even just making a connection.  
At that point, Ian’s need for an answer is avoided by his takeaway being placed on the counter and his order being called out. He picks it up and walks out of the shop, still shaking his head and grumbling under his breath.  
Ben and the guy behind the counter exchange a look of relief.

Back at the flat, Lexi’s found a movie on the telly to watch, and placed plates and cutlery on the coffee table. Ben unpacks the food and they settle down side by side on the couch.  
“So, how’s things?” asks Ben.  
“Fine,” says Lexi, before shovelling chicken chop suey into her mouth.  
Ben waits for her to elaborate, but nothing is forthcoming. “You’re a font of information,” he says, rolling his eyes.  
She chews and swallows her food, and then says, “I’m more interested in how you are, dad.”  
“Why?”  
“Cos you seem sad.”  
He grimaces in irritation. “What’s Jay been saying?”  
“Nothin’ much. You just seem sad all the time since you got outta that place.”  
He narrows his eyes at her. “You’re far too mature for your years, young lady. You don’t havta worry about me.”  
She gives him a look, but digs into her food again, and they eat in an easy silence for a few minutes, half-watching the film on the telly.  
After a few mouthfuls Ben puts his plate back on the coffee table. He can’t find the appetite right now. Lexi looks at him with concern.  
“You not hungry?”  
“Not really.”  
She sighs. “Dad, you should eat something.”  
He rolls his eyes at her worrying. “I just have! And let’s face it, I ain’t gonna waste away if I miss the odd meal here n there, am I?”  
“You ain’t fat,” she says. “You’ve worked off all the weight you had when you got outta that place. And besides which, you weren’t exactly a porker then, were ya?”  
“Kind words, young lady,” says Ben. “So, come on then, what’s all the news?” He craves a distraction from the thoughts that are even now whirling round in his head.  
She gulps her mouthful of food down, and tilts her head to one side. “Well, Will’s got learner of the week three times in a row. Mum n Jay are chuffed to bits.”

“Yeah? That’s great. He’s a bright little spark, that littl‘un. What’ve you bin up to?”  
“Nothin’ much, I -” She bites off what she was about to say, and looks embarrassed.  
Ben stares at her with narrowed eyes. “You what? Come on, dish the dirt. You bin up to no good?”  
“No, I was just gonna say…” she trails off again and looks at him beseechingly. When she sees that he’s not going to let it drop, she says in a resigned voice, “Fine, I was just gonna say that I went to the cinema with Cal last week.”  
His heart lurches again at the mention of that name. “Yeah?” he says, moderating the tone of his voice carefully. “What d’ya see?”  
“Some Jane Austen adaptation,” she says dismissively. “It was alright.”  
In spite of himself, he sniggers. “I bet Callum loved that. Right up his street.”  
She smiles politely, and there is silence between them. He leaves enough time for it not to sound like he cares one way or the other, and then asks, “You see him a lot then, do ya? Cal?”  
“Yeah, every so often. He’s nice. He loves Will, too. I s’pose he misses having kids of his own, maybe.”  
“Maybe,” says Ben. It’s not something he’d ever thought about.  
Lexi leans in towards him. “He asked about ya,” she says, as if she’s divulging a secret,  
“Did he?” asks Ben, ignoring the sudden pulse of his ever-hopeful heart. “Probably making sure I wasn’t suddenly gonna turn up and make the Jane Austen awkward.”  
Lexi rolls her eyes. “Nah, course not.” She puts her empty plate on the coffee table next to Ben’s full one. “You don’t mind, do ya dad? I mean, he’s always bin there for us, ever since…well -”  
Ben swallows down the bile in his throat and makes a monumental effort to sound nonchalant. “Course I don’t mind, princess. Things might not have worked out between me and Cal, but that don’t mean I’m gonna stop you seein’ him.”  
Lexi shifts awkwardly. “D’ you think there’s any - ”  
“No,” says Ben very firmly. “No chance at all. Now, explain to me what the hell’s goin’ on in this film we’re supposed to be watching.”

They continue watching the TV in a companionable silence, making comments every now and again about the acting or the occasional particularly contrived plot point. From the corner of his eye, Ben can see that Lexi glances over at him every now and then, as if she wants to say something more. Eventually she swings round and puts her feet up on the couch, shifting over and snuggling into his side. He wraps an arm around her shoulders and smiles contentedly to himself. It’s things like this he likes about his life. Maybe if he can have this, the rest doesn’t matter. He tries to tamp down the thoughts about what he’s missing.  
After a few minutes, Lexi clears her throat. “I did wanna come and see you in that place,” she says. “Mum thought it wasn’t doin’ me any good though.”  
He’s surprised that this is what was playing on her mind. “It’s alright, princess. I understood. Prisons are no place for a little kid. I never stopped thinkin’ about ya, though. Never stopped lovin’ ya.”  
“I used to get scared,” she continues, disregarding his comment. "I always thought we’d get there and they’d say there’d been a mistake. You was dead and we couldn’t see ya.”  
Ben twists round to look down at her face. “What? Where’s this coming from?”  
“I knew, dad, about what you did in prison.” She looks back up at him, staring him straight in the eyes. “I knew almost as soon as it happened.”  
His heart goes icy cold. “Jay and Lola told ya? I need to have a word with them!”  
“No! Course not. They tried to keep it from me but I overheard them talking to Nanna Kathy one time. They still don’t know that I know.” She turns back round and rests her head on his chest. “I couldn’t understand why those people would keep you in that place if they knew how unhappy it was makin’ you. I wanted to come and look after ya.”  
Ben is devastated. “Oh baby, you don’t havta be the adult in this relationship! I’m yer dad. I should be lookin’ after you.”  
“But you’re so sad all the time!”  
“I’m just adjusting to bein’ out again. A lot’s changed.” He squeezes her shoulders. “I’ll be alright, baby. I ain’t gonna do anything stupid again. Why would I, when I’ve got you, eh? You don’t have to worry, honest.”  
She worms her arms around him and hugs him tight. “But I will, cos you’re my dad. And I love ya.”  
He kisses the top of her head, and realises he’s going to have to start doing life differently from now on.

ELEVEN  
The movie finishes and Ben and Lexi chat for another hour or so, catching up on the gossip, talking about boys – or at least Lexi talks and Ben listens. Ben’s sworn off boys for life. Eventually, he thinks he ought to be walking Lexi home.  
“You don’t havta walk me home, dad,” she says. “I’m a big girl now.”  
“And that’s precisely why I’m walking ya home,” argues Ben. Having been in prison, he’s acutely aware of the low-lifes that frequent every neck of the woods.  
It’s frosty out already, and their breath hangs in clouds in front of them as they cross the Square towards the salon. Ben links arms with Lexi and she huddles into him for warmth. When they get to the door of the flat, she hugs him and holds on for ages.  
“I’m alright, princess,” he whispers into her hair.  
“You ain’t,” she says. “I wish there was something I could do ta make you happy.”  
He holds her at arms’ length and looks her in the eye. “You DO make me happy, Lex. I love ya. Now don’t worry about me, alright?”  
She nods reluctantly, and then turns to unlock the door. “I’ll text ya,” she says. “I’ll text ya to say goodnight. And maybe we could go to the cinema sometime?”  
Ben hides his sadness with a big smile. “I’d like that.” He wags his finger at her. “None o’ that Jane Austen rubbish, though. Something with a fit leading man!”  
She grins and rolls her eyes, then lets herself into the flat and out of sight.

Now that he’s outside, he finds he welcomes the cold air. He’s been cooped up in the flat more or less all day. He wanders back across the Square slowly, and sits down on the bench in the central garden. It’s more or less peaceful, nobody sane is out in this cold weather, and even the police sirens and the rumble of the tube sound distant and muted. The moon is high up in the sky, just a thin sliver of silver floating above everything. From time to time, noisy chat and laughter drift across from the Vic.  
He tips his head back and watches his breath form in the air above him. He remembers when he used to pretend it was cigarette smoke, trying to blow smoke rings. Everyone did, in the days when they were all just kids and far too young for real cigarettes. Life seemed simpler back then, even with all the shit he used to get from Phil, and then Stella; not to mention everything that Kathy had thrown his way in the past.  
Phil. Dead for two years and still such an influence on Ben. He wonders if the old man would be proud, knowing what he’s left behind. He wonders if a screwed-up son who’s incapable of love or being loved is the legacy he bargained on. Ben tries to imagine what he’d say to him if they ever came face to face again, but falls short. Phil had only ever scoffed at him whenever he’d tried to explain his feelings, anyway. Why would he be any different in the afterlife? Eventually, Ben had learned that just shutting down was the easier option.  
His thoughts are disturbed by the sound of footsteps running across the Square. Either someone’s just robbed someone, or there’s a fitness freak out for a late-night jog. The steps come closer and Ben can hear the runner’s panting breath. They stop just underneath the streetlamp at the gate to the garden, and Ben’s heart sinks. He wills him to keep on going; not to turn around and see him there on the bench. It’s Callum.  
The older man does a few stretching exercises using the gatepost as a support, and Ben shrinks back onto the bench, holding his breath. He watches as Callum takes his phone out of his tracksuit pocket and stares at the screen, then pockets it again with a grimace.  
Ben’s beginning to think he’s got away unnoticed until Callum comes further into the garden and heads straight for his bench. He starts when he finally spots Ben in the shadows, and utters an exclamation. “Jesus!” He peers more closely, and realises who it is he’s nearly tripped over.  
“Oh,” he says awkwardly. “Sorry.”  
Ben shoves his hands further into his pockets and his chin into his collar. He nods once, briefly. His heart aches, but it’s too late to walk away. Besides which, there’s a masochistic part of him that doesn’t want to, anyway.  
“I, uh…” Callum points behind himself vaguely. “Uh, fancied a run. Some air.” He chuckles uncomfortably. “Couldn’t settle, for some reason.”  
“Yeah,” says Ben. “Same.” He shifts awkwardly. “Well, not the run, obviously.”  
Callum smiles uncertainly, and perches beside him on the very edge of the bench. They sit in silence for much longer than is comfortable, then Callum clears his throat.  
“I’m sorry. About last night,” he says, in a rush. “It shouldn’ta happened.” He huffs a humourless laugh. “Don’t know where my head’s bin at, lately.”  
“S’alright. You made it clear last night you thought it was a mistake,” says Ben in a flat voice.  
Callum nods energetically, his excessive actions giving away the fact that he’s nervous. “What you doin’ out here, anyway?”  
“Tryin’ ta work out what I’d say to me dad if I ever met him again,” says Ben. “It’s his two-year anniversary tomorrow.”  
Callum rubs his hands down his thighs, and pulls at the fingertips of the gloves he’s wearing. “Ah… Sorry. I never did give my condolences.”  
Ben shrugs. “One o’ those things, ain’t it? Life, death…sex. No point cryin’ over any of it.”  
Callum peers at him through the shadow to see if he’s being serious. A frown appears on his face. “You go to his funeral?”  
“Nah,” says Ben. “I was a bit tied up at the time.”  
“So you ain’t had closure, then,” says Callum. “You ain’t grieved properly.”  
Ben opens his mouth to tell Callum that he has no idea what Ben feels about his father, and it’s none of his business in any case, but before he can speak Callum’s phone sounds loud in the silent air, making them both start. He pulls it out of his pocket to look at the screen, then shoves it straight back in. The phone continues to ring, muffled from inside his tracksuit top.  
“Ain’t you gonna answer that?” asks Ben. “Might be important.”  
“Shouldn’t think so,” says Callum. “I, uh…I’ve bin thinking.” He pauses. “I’d like us to be friends,” he says tentatively.  
Ben throws his head back and laughs sarcastically. “Oh please, don’t do this Callum. Don’t embarrass us both.”  
Callum looks bewildered at his reaction. “I ain’t - ”  
“We was never friends, was we? It was always about the sex with us,” says Ben.  
“It weren’t,” argues Callum sadly. “it - ”  
“So don’t patronise me by givin’ me some kind of consolation prize,” says Ben, talking over him.  
“Consolation - ?” repeats Callum. “I don’t understand - ”  
“I don’t wanna be your ‘friend’, Cal. I never did.”  
They resume their silence, but it’s tinged with anger and sadness now, not just with awkwardness. Both of them should just walk away. If either one stood up at that moment and headed off across the Square, the moment would be broken. Maybe they could even begin the process of moving on. Ben thinks that’s what he’s afraid of though. If he walks away now, that’s it. For good. At least, sitting here on this bench with him, there’s still a connection, however messed up and desperate that might be.  
“You said you’d missed me,” says Callum in a low voice when the silence has stretched on to breaking point. “Last night. You said that.”  
“Yeah, well, I say a lot of things when the sex hormones are running riot,” says Ben.  
Callum frowns. “Don’t - ”  
His phone rings again and he curses under his breath. He pulls it out of his pocket and holds it up to switch the volume off. Looking across, Ben sees the picture of Alex flashing up on the screen.  
“Looks like the boyfriend’s keen to get hold of ya,” sneers Ben. “A bit obsessive, ain’t he? But then, if that’s what turns you on…”  
Callum shakes his head angrily. “Why are you always like this?”  
Ben could ask him what he means, but he can’t muster up the energy. He’s pretty sure he knows anyway. Sarcastic, annoying. Unlovable.  
He studies Callum in profile. He’s taking a couple of deep breaths, like he’s trying to calm himself down, but he’s beginning to shiver slightly too as he cools down from his run.  
“You should go home, Cal,” says Ben in a softer voice. “You’ll catch your death out here.”  
“I’m fine,” snaps Callum. “You don’t get to tell me what to do. Not anymore.”  
His words cut Ben to the quick, but he feels sadness, too, that they just can’t seem to reach an equilibrium these days. It seems like they’re always misinterpreting each other. If Callum’s trying to connect with him, Ben’s defensive. If Ben shows the other man some care, he thinks he’s trying to make decisions for him. He just can’t win. They never used to be like this. There was a time they would finish each other’s sentences; exchange a whole conversation with just the quirk of an eyebrow.  
Maybe Callum’s thinking something similar, because when he next speaks, all the defiance has leached from his voice. “You did say it though. You said you missed me. And I bin tryin’ to work it out, but I can’t.”  
“Work what out?” asks Ben.  
“All those blokes you had in prison. The second you got in there you was just shaggin’ around – and makin’ sure I knew about it too. Even though I’d told ya I’d wait for ya. So why would you miss me now, after all this time?”  
Ben sighs. “Because I’m an idiot, mate. I’m a fucked-up mess. But then, you grow up with a dad like Phil, and try turnin’ out any different.”  
“Is it cos I’m with Alex now?” asks Callum.  
Ben wants to tell him that it’s not because of anything that’s happened since he left prison. He’s missed this man sitting next to him, with a passion like a red-hot poker burning through his heart, for ten long years. But Callum’s moved on, and Ben can’t draw him back into his messed-up world. He’s going to be the better man, here. He’s going to be honourable. “Somethin’ like that,” he says. “Probably.” He huffs a laugh. “You know me, always ready to fuck up your life.”  
Callum nods reflectively. “I thought maybe that was it, the Alex thing,” he says sadly, and the words kill Ben’s heart just a little bit more. Callum stares into space with a furrowed brow, and then says. “I did grow up with a dad like Phil, you know? Jonno’s not so very different. And I turned out OK.”  
“Well, lucky you - ” begins Ben.  
“And I don’t think you turned out nearly as bad as you like to tell yourself,” insists Callum. “He’s dead now, your dad. You should start sortin’ out all yer feelings about him. You shouldn’t let him be an excuse.”  
Ben shakes his head, feeling uncomfortable with the sudden unexpected psychoanalysis from Callum. “So, now who’s telling people what to do?”  
“He’s dead, Ben,” says Callum firmly. “He can’t control you anymore. Unless you carry on letting him.”  
“Bit too deep for me,” says Ben, standing up abruptly and rubbing his hands together to ward off the cold. He knows he’s deflecting, but he can’t bear the intensity of this conversation. He’s worried he’ll betray how he really feels, and Callum will be embarrassed and reject him all over again. The older man’s made his choice. He was very clear about that last night.  
Ben takes a step away, but then turns back to Callum, suddenly wanting to redeem himself a little now it scarcely matters. “And for the record, there weren’t never any blokes. Not when you was still visiting me in prison. I might be an idiot, but I was never unfaithful.”  
Callum sits stock still, staring up at him with a bewildered expression on his face. Ben walks away. It’s for the best. He walks away, without looking back.  
He reaches the corner of the Square and his phone pings with a text. It’s Lexi. ‘Night-night dad. Be happy 😊. Mum says do u want to come for lunch tomoz? Loadsa love xxx’ 

TWELVE  
November turns into December, and suddenly Christmas songs are playing on the market stalls and in the Vic, and everyone’s rushing round shopping and making preparations. There’s an excitement in the air so strong even Ben finds himself unable to ignore it.  
He’s trying hard to ignore other things though. Callum’s appraisal of him, for one. Ben does not have a problem with Phil. He doesn’t have any feelings to process, because there were no feelings there in the first place. Where there should be emotion with regard to his old man, there’s just a void. He knows, because he spent eighteen months cultivating it when he was still in prison and had nothing better to do.  
Christmas notwithstanding, life continues on its usual dreary cycle. Ben’s making a fair bit of money at the car lot. It seems winter is the time when everyone decides driving a car would be better than scrapping it out on public transport every day, regardless of the congestion charge, and he shifts seven cars in the first two weeks of December alone.  
He who will not be named has managed to stay out of Ben’s way. Or maybe it’s Ben managing to stay out of his way. The fact remains, they haven’t bumped into each other once since their conversation on the bench.  
Someone who Ben has bumped into, though, is Alex. He sees him coming out of the Tesco Metro as he’s nipping in for some milk one night after work, and manages to muster a non-committal ‘Alright mate,’ in greeting. He’s nothing if not noble in defeat. Alex just throws him a dirty look in response, and carries on his way. Obviously not full of the joys of the season then, thinks Ben, feeling slightly mystified.  
A few days later, he’s just opened up at the car lot and is sitting behind his desk, feet up reading the local paper, when the door opens and he who will not be named strides in.  
Ben immediately swings his feet off the desk and sits up straight, cursing his disloyal heart for the palpitations it gives him at the sight of the man.  
Callum’s looking resolute. The expression on his face reminds Ben of the time he’d asked him on a date all those years ago in the Vic. That little episode had been one of his favourite memories to replay when he was inside and missing everything on the outside. Stupid, Ben tells himself. Stupid to think that might be about to happen again. Callum’s more likely going to have a go at him about some perceived slight to Alex or something.  
“You busy?” asks Callum.  
“Um, not especially,” says Ben, setting aside the newspaper.  
“Right,” says Callum. “You’re coming with me.”  
Shit! Ben thinks. He’s arresting me. But I ain’t even done anything. “You gonna read me my rights?” he asks, in all seriousness.  
“I ain’t joking, Ben. There’s somewhere I wanna take ya.” Callum’s resolve is crumbling a little. He’s beginning to look nervous in the face of Ben’s resistance.  
“What you talkin’ about?” asks Ben. “If you ain’t arresting me, I can’t just drop everything. I’ve got a business to run.” Besides which, a voice in his head says, I’m trying to move on from you.  
Callum looks bewildered. “Arrestin’ ya? Who said anything about arrestin’ ya?” He steps closer to Ben’s desk, and looks beseeching. “Please, Ben. Just go with this, yeah?”  
Ben stares him out for a few seconds, chewing his lip as he considers whether any more contact than is strictly necessary is a good idea. Eventually, he heaves a sigh. “OK. Where we goin’ and how long’s it gonna take?”  
Callum’s expression becomes more resolute again. They’re clearly back on script. “Right. I’m not telling you where we’re going, but it’ll take a couple of hours.”  
“A coupla -!” Ben begins to protest, but trails off at the look on Callum’s face. Honestly, if he refused him it’d be like kicking a puppy. He rolls his eyes. “Alright, alright, I’ll come with ya.” He crosses to take his coat and scarf off the peg in the corner. Shrugging them on, he reflects that he never could refuse Callum anything. Some things never change. He knows he’s going to regret it this time though, and begins steeling himself for the inevitable hurt and heartache that will kick in later on.  
Callum waits, kicking his heels against the kerb, while Ben locks up the car lot, and then leads the way across the square and out towards Victoria Road, his long legs setting a punishing speed that has Ben struggling to keep up.  
“Can we just slow down a bit?” he asks breathlessly.  
Callum’s clearly a man on a mission. He casts a preoccupied glance round at Ben as if he’s forgotten he’s there, and shortens his stride. “Uh, sorry, yeah.”  
Once in Victoria Road they carry on for a few more metres, and then Callum comes to a stop. Ben looks around himself. His flat is only just down the road on the opposite side, but that’s clearly not where they’re headed.  
“This is it?” he asks. “This is where you wanted to bring me?”  
Callum looks at him incredulously. “Course it ain’t. We’re catchin’ a bus.”  
Ben sees then that they’ve stopped at the bus stop. “Ah. That makes more sense.” He thinks for a second. “Actually, it don’t. Come on Cal, where you takin’ me?”  
“I ain’t gonna tell ya.”  
“OK,” says Ben. “Soooo… your boyfriend comin’ on this little road trip with us?”  
Callum’s face closes off at that. “He…uh. He ain’t, uh… We’re on a break right now.” He avoids Ben’s gaze and stares up the road to see if the bus is coming.  
Ben raises his eyebrows and files the information away for later scrutiny. It can’t mean anything good for him, but it’s interesting nevertheless. He ignores his heart, which has just given a little flutter as if it’s preparing to take flight.  
When the bus arrives, Callum buys two tickets for a road Ben’s never heard of. Neither of them have Oyster cards, they don’t spend enough time away from the Square to warrant the spend on one. They settle down in a seat towards the back of the bus, and Ben takes comfort and pleasure in the warmth of Callum’s thigh against his own. Maybe Callum feels it too because he shifts away slightly, leaving a small gap between them that feels like a cold chasm. Ben sighs quietly to himself.  
Callum stares out of the window and makes no attempt at conversation, so Ben occupies his time with trying to decide what’s going on here. He narrows it down to two alternatives. Either Callum’s taking him away somewhere remote to kill him, or he’s taking him away somewhere remote to make a declaration of undying love, possibly involving aeroplanes and trailing banners. Of the two, Ben knows which he thinks is more likely, and it doesn’t involve aircraft.  
Eventually, Callum stirs and clears his throat. “What did you mean earlier? You asked if I was gonna read you your rights. You bin up to something dodgy again?”  
“No,” says Ben. “Absolutely not. I’m straight these days. In a manner of speakin’.”  
Callum looks as if he doesn’t believe him, and the look he throws sideways at him reminds Ben so acutely of the old days, when they were still strong together, that it hurts his throat. He swallows hard and looks away to stare out of the window at the pedestrians they pass. It’s cold out, but sunny; one of those bright December days that makes you feel that spring might just be around the corner. People are still wrapped up in coats and scarves and hats, but there’s a spring in their steps. Ben envies them their simple, uncomplicated lives. He has no idea what’s going on with him and Callum at the moment, but he knows it’s just more aggravation that his brain can’t really deal with right now.  
The bus has twisted and turned through the outskirts of Walford so many times now that he’s completely lost his bearings. The roads have become a little wider, and there are more trees, bigger houses. This is the part of Walford that’s gradually becoming more gentrified.  
A thought occurs to Ben. “This ain’t about you tryin’ to make us into friends, is it? We goin’ on a picnic or somethin’?”  
“Nah,” says Callum, with an edge to his voice. “You made your feelings on that very clear, thanks.”  
They resume their silence for another couple of stops, then Ben asks, “So, you and Alex. What’s goin’ on there?”  
Callum leaps up. “This is us.” He rings the bell for the bus to stop and strides off down the aisle. Ben watches him go, receiving the message loud and clear: none of his business. He follows Callum to the exit more cautiously, the bus lurching and rolling as it manoeuvres towards the next stop.  
As he steps down from the bus, Callum is already heading down a side street. Ben rushes to catch up. “Is there a deadline we’re tryin’ to meet?” he asks.  
Once again, Callum slows down. “Sorry, no. No rush. They ain’t going nowhere.”  
“They?” Ben stops dead. “Cal, please tell me what’s goin’ on. You ain’t brought me out here to bump me off, have ya?”  
Callum turns back to him and, for the first time in forever, smiles at him. Ben is pathetically grateful for the warmth that spreads through his heart. “Don’t be daft.” Callum shakes his head, looking almost fondly at Ben, but then schools his features back into their customary indifference. “Sorry. What I said about ‘em. It was a bit insensitive.” He turns back around and carries on down the street.  
Ben frowns, still not understanding. He’s even more bemused when Callum indicates that they should take a left turn a few hundred metres later into…Walford Cemetery.  
“Wait, who’s died?” he asks.  
Callum regards him silently, until eventually the penny drops.  
“Aaah, no,” Ben exclaims. “I am not doin’ this. I ain’t bein’ part of your…your weird psychoanalysis experiment or whatever it is.”  
He turns to retrace their route, but Callum takes him firmly by the elbow and leads him further into the cemetery. “I ain’t takin’ no for an answer. You need to do this, Ben,” he says sternly in a voice that, in any other circumstances, would have had Ben instantly hard and begging.  
A cemetery is not the place to have THOSE thoughts, however. Especially not this cemetery.  
Calum has drawn a piece of paper from his pocket and is consulting it, looking up every now and then to get their bearings. Eventually, he sets off purposefully down a walkway between two rows of gravestones, and stops just before the far end. “Here he is,” he calls back.  
Ben follows warily, stopping beside Callum and giving him a disapproving look before glancing down at the stone. The inscription is simple and plain:

‘Philip Robert Mitchell  
b 20 January 1961, d 28 November 2027  
Sadly missed’  
He’s taken aback at the way his throat tightens and his eyes smart. He blinks a couple of times, and clenches his hands in his pockets. So, this is what it all came to. All the hurt and the misery and pain. A small, insignificant stone in an anonymous graveyard, one of many hundreds stretching away in every direction. Phil had always loomed so large in Ben’s life. He’d always been the big man, but now… He was nothing.  
“You OK?” asks Callum, hovering uncertainly at his shoulder.  
Ben isn’t sure he can reply. He hadn’t expected to feel so affected. He burrows his chin down in his coat and takes a few deep breaths.  
Callum places his hand lightly on Ben’s shoulder. “He can’t hurt you anymore, Ben. And you’ve gotta decide if you’re gonna let what he did rule the rest of your life.” He squeezes Ben’s shoulder, and then quietly walks away and sits on a bench at the side of the cemetery under a vast oak tree.  
Ben stares out across the hundreds of headstones, each one denoting the life of someone who’d lived and loved and struggled through. He wonders what his headstone would have said if he’d…  
He blinks that thought away, and stares back down at Phil’s inscription again. There are so many things Ben would have wanted to say to him, if he’d been a different person. If Phil had been a different father. Maybe he can admit it now no damage can be done, but foremost among them was the fact that he loved him. Despite everything, he loved his father, and he’d have given anything to have heard that Phil loved him too. The realisation blindsides him. He’s spent so long telling himself that he doesn’t care.  
He takes another few deep breaths and looks up to the sky, trying to stem the tears that are threatening to spill down his cheeks. He reaches out a hand and places it on the headstone. It’s cold and rough to the touch, and he supposes that’s fitting, really. He imagines that his thoughts and emotions transmit themselves through his warm palm, through all the synapses and vessels, and into the consciousness of Phil, wherever that may be now, even though the next second he castigates himself for being an idiot. Even so, he hopes Phil understands, wherever he is. Ben loved him. He is capable of love, regardless of what Phil taught him. Regardless of what he got in return.  
He gathers his emotions, and turns to go and join Callum on the bench. The older man is staring at the ground in front of him, hands clenched between his knees. He glances up as Ben sits down beside him, but doesn’t speak. They sit in silence. Ben wipes his cheeks roughly with the back of his hand. “Why did ya do this?” he asks eventually. “Bringin’ me here? I mean, I ain’t nothin’ to you anymore, am I? Why would you bother?”  
After a while, Callum starts to talk in a low, quiet voice. “Bein’ a policeman, I’ve seen all sorts. Some things you would not believe. But what I’ve learned is that people’re basically good. Or tryin’ to be, at least. They’re just copin’ with what life throws at ‘em, and sometimes they get it wrong. They lash out or they make the wrong decisions. And all around them there are people who get hurt. But they still forgive ‘em. They still love ‘em.  
Ben sniffs. He can feel tears sliding down his cheeks again. He thinks he gets it now, what Callum’s trying to say. Phil was flawed, but he tried his best regardless.  
“Sometimes people love us in the only way they can,” continues Callum. “Not in the way we need ‘em to. Like yer dad.” He shifts uncomfortably and looks right at Ben. “Like you, an’ all.”  
Ben wipes his eyes again, and peers at him with a furrowed brow.  
Callum looks awkward. “I, uh, I saw Lex last week. She told me what you did. In prison.” He blinks hard, as if blinking away his distress. “All that stuff you made up about those men you were goin’ with, you did that to protect me, didn’t ya? You thought I’d be better off without ya.”  
For a second, Ben finds it hard to admit the truth. He’s kept the lie going for ten long years, and somehow it’s hard to give it up. Eventually, he gives a brief nod.  
Callum lets out a long breath. “And you hurt yerself in the process.”  
The look he gives Ben is soft, and forgiving, and Ben can’t hold himself together any longer. The wall he’s built around himself crumbles, and he cries. For Phil and his inability to love, for the sadness in the old man’s life that he’d endured to make him into the man he became. For the pain Ben’s caused Callum and all the wasted years that he’d thought he’d been saving him from. And he cries for himself, too, for that hurt little boy that he’s always been inside, for the pain and the sheer exhausting effort of protecting himself from hurt throughout the years. Callum reaches out and pulls him into his side, and holds him through it all. Ben knows this may be the last time he ever holds him like this, so he wraps his arms around Callum’s waist and huddles into him, feeling reassured and comforted by his solid warmth. It grounds him, and he takes deep shuddering breaths as his tears subside. Eventually, he quietens, and just breathes in Callum’s scent, wanting to prolong this moment for ever.  
“D’you know what the saddest thing in the world is?” asks Callum, running his hand soothingly up and down Ben’s side.  
Ben sniffs, and shakes his head against Callum’s chest.  
“This is gonna sound stupid,” says Callum with an embarrassed half-laugh. “An’ I’ll probably deny ever sayin’ it if you mention it to anyone else.” He shifts slightly, tightening his grip on Ben. “I think the saddest thing in the world is that we’ve all got so much love in us to give, and we can’t give it away. People won’t accept it cos they think they don’t deserve it. And then it goes bad inside us, makes us sad. Or bitter.” He laughs again. “I dunno. That’s what I think, anyway.”  
Ben twists round to look up at him. He’s thinking of Callum’s difficulties with Alex. “You ain’t bitter.”  
“I might be a bit sad, though.” Callum strokes fleetingly at Ben’s cheek with a soft hand. “Sorry, didn’t mean to make you cry.”  
Ben moves away from him reluctantly and sits up, wiping his face again. “S’alright. Wouldn’t be the first time.” He looks away, cursing himself for giving too much away. “I’m sorry you an’ Alex are havin’ problems,” he says.  
Callum scrutinises his face. “Are ya?”  
“Course. He…he suits ya. Much better than I ever did.”  
Callum frowns. “I ain’t so sure.”  
“A policeman and an ex-con? We was never a good match, was we? Weren’t ever really gonna work.”  
“Maybe not on paper,” says Callum. “We didn’t do too bad though, did we?”  
“Are you includin’ the whole ‘going to prison for killin’ someone’ thing in your assessment, or you pretendin’ that didn’t happen?” asks Ben.  
Callum grimaces, and Ben thinks he’s gone too far. He always has to push it. They both look out across the cemetery in silence.  
“What if I weren’t a policeman?” asks Callum suddenly.  
“If you hadn’t been a copper, maybe, yeah,” says Ben. “But that’s why I did what I did when I went inside. I didn’t want you to suffer cos of what I’d done. That and the fact that I didn’t want you to waste ten years.”  
“That weren’t your decision to make,” exclaims Callum, suddenly blazing. As if he’s reminded of the implications of that decision for Ben, he calms down immediately. “But I get why you did it,” he adds. He turns to fully face Ben, and his eyes are earnest. He looks nervous. “I don’t mean then, though. What if I weren’t a copper now?”  
Ben laughs, but the laughter fades as he sees that Callum’s serious. “What else would ya do? You couldn’t go back to the funeral parlour, you’d hate it. You love bein’ a copper.”  
“Well yeah, but there’s other things I think I’d love more. I’ve already got a plan.” Callum sits up straight. His eyes are suddenly sparkling. “I’ve got a mate from the Force took early retirement last year. He’s just settin’ up a project for ex-offenders. It’s gonna be on the Square.”  
“Hold on, hold on. You mean that cycle project?” asks Ben, suddenly remembering the conversation he’d had with Ian.  
“Yeah! I spoke to me mate last week, and he said there’s a job there if I want it. I’d need to do a bit more trainin’, get a youth work qualification, but I can do that alongside workin’ there in another capacity, just until I’m cleared to work with the kids. What d’ya think?”  
Ben is caught up in the other man’s enthusiasm for a second, but then reality kicks back in. He frowns. “Why you askin’ me? It’s not my decision.”  
Callum face falls at that, and Ben instantly tries to soften his words. “I mean, it’s great that you wanna do it, but shouldn’t you be talking to Alex about it, not me? How long you two gonna be on a break for, anyway?”  
He stares off across the cemetery again, steeling himself for the answer, but turns back to Callum when the silence drags on.  
Callum’s staring at Ben as if he thinks he’s stupid. “Indefinitely,” he says, his eyes trying to convey a message. When Ben still doesn’t pick up on it, he huffs. “Permanently. I’m a free agent again.” He nudges Ben with his elbow. “Just sayin’… You know, in case anyone else wanted to maybe ask me out.”  
The jolt that Ben’s heart gives is so violent that he’s left feeling nauseous. He feels immediate delight, but it’s soon overtaken by a fear so strong it grips his insides tight. Callum is looking at him expectantly, a nervous half-smile on his face. As he sees the conflicting emotions on Ben’s face, his smile fades, and he looks away. “Don’t matter,” he says. “It was just a thought.”  
He makes to stand up, but Ben puts a hand on his arm to keep him in place.  
“Cal, wait. It ain’t that easy for me.” He tries to marshall his thoughts, sensing that the next few sentences he speaks might be the most important of his life. He takes a deep breath. “When we got together, I felt like I’d finally worked life out. I’d hit the jackpot. Amazing bloke who for some reason seemed to love me back; finally goin’ legit; a whole world ahead of me. And then I did that one stupid thing and it all got ripped away from me.” He rubs a hand over his face wearily. “I couldn’t stand it if that happened again. It nearly broke me last time.”  
“So you’d rather not try?” asks Callum. He‘s looking confused. “You’d rather go without, than chance it? I mean, let’s face it, you ain’t plannin’ to kill anyone else, are ya?”  
“Course not,” says Ben, rolling his eyes. “I didn’t ‘plan’ the last one.” He shifts closer to Callum, desperate to make him understand. “But I ain’t easy, am I? I’ll piss you off; I’ll hurt ya. I’ll try and love ya but I’ll most probably get it wrong, mess it up. I will be awkward and stroppy and stupid - ”  
“And I’ll take it,” says Callum. “I’ll take it all.” He puts a hand on Ben’s arm. “Don’t forget I know ya. I know what I’ll be gettin’ myself into.” His face crumples a little. “I don’t know what I’da done if I’d lost you.”  
It’s so tempting. It’s what Ben’s waited to hear ever since he left prison, but now that Callum’s offering him everything he ever wanted, the nagging voice in his head kicks in with added volume. He doesn’t deserve this. He’ll mess it up.  
But doesn’t everyone? They mess life up, but they still try, they still struggle to make things right. He thinks of Lola and Jay, so anxious for him to be happy. His mum, hoping against hope that he’ll settle down with a decent bloke. He thinks about Lexi, and all her meddling behind the scenes, telling Callum the whole story of what happened to Ben in prison (he’ll have to have a word with her about that, little madam!) They all have so much love to give him, and maybe he should just start to accept it. He is loved. Loveable. It’s a strange idea. It’s going to take a bit of getting used to.  
And maybe this beautiful man beside him, who already knows him so well, maybe he has love to give too. Love that Ben could accept, if he tried hard enough.  
He turns to Callum, who’s sitting expectantly, watching him closely. He just can’t bring himself to make that final leap right now. But maybe he will soon. Maybe he can train his brain to do it.  
“I don’t wanna make you do something you’ll regret,” he says. “So, you make your decision about your job, and we’ll wait til the new year and see what’s what then.”  
Callum looks unsure. “But it ain’t a no?”  
“It ain’t a no. Although you’re gonna havta work on your idea of a decent first date.” He slaps Callum’s thigh softly. “Don’t think much of this one.”  
Callum grins, and Ben’s mind is filled with clichés about sunshine breaking through clouds.  
“Who said this was a date?” He leans over and gives Ben the tiniest, most chaste kiss on his cheek, but it’s worth a thousand of any of the others Ben’s ever received. Ben smiles bashfully at him, then looks away, overcome by the brightness in his eyes.

On the bus on the way back, they sit close beside each other, and Ben can feel the warmth of Callum’s thigh against his own. For the most part, they sit in a contented silence, but every now and then they’ll glance at each other, then look away smiling shyly.  
“So,” says Ben as they’re nearing Victoria Road again. “Alex OK, was he? When you broke it to him?”  
“Ben…” says Callum, warningly.  
“You tell him it was cos he wouldn’t let ya stick your -?”  
“Stop! I ain’t discussin’ this with ya.” Callum is firm, but there’s amusement in his eyes. “Forget about him. He weren’t never a threat to ya.”  
“No?”  
“No.” Callum stares straight ahead, avoiding eye contact. In an undertone, he says, “As if I even noticed him when you was around.”  
“Knew it!” says Ben triumphantly. He resists the urge to give a fist pump. He has some decorum. 

The bus drops them off in Victoria Road and they wander back slowly towards the Square. They bump shoulders as they walk, and anyone watching them would note that they walk close together, too close for a couple of men who are just friends or acquaintances. Occasionally, their hands will brush, and once or twice Callum links his little finger with Ben’s. Ben allows a small smile to play across his features. He feels like something’s clicking back into place inside him.  
They pass through the market. It’s bustling and noisy, people dodging each other as they go on the important errands that make up their day to day life. Christmas music is playing from nearly every stall, and bundles of tinsel flutter in the slight breeze that’s picked up. There’s an air of excitement everywhere.  
They’re almost at the edge of the market when Callum stops abruptly, and turns to Ben. He looks stricken. “I don’t wanna wait til the new year to see what’s what.”  
Ben feels his heart drop to his stomach. “What? You’ve changed your mind? You don’t wanna try and make a go of things?”  
“No. I mean, yeah! Course I do! I just think… don’t you think we’ve already wasted too much time? Why wait?” His expression becomes resolute again. “Ben Mitchell, will you come home with me right now and let me ravage ya?”  
Ben’s heart resumes beating. He smiles up at Callum, and hesitates only for a second, silencing the customary voice that tells him he doesn’t deserve this. The older man is right. Life’s too short.  
“Well, since you asked so nicely, how can I refuse?”  
He reaches up and captures Callum’s lips in a kiss that conveys all the emotion and drama he’s endured in the last ten years. Callum wraps his arms tight around Ben’s waist and responds in just the same way.  
Behind them, a few bystanders have gathered to witness a sign being put up over the newest business in the square. In bright blue font over a yellow background, the words ‘Fixing the cycle’ adorn the front of the building where the old Minute Mart sign used to be. Lola is in the crowd. She turns around and is the first to spot them locked in the longest kiss known to man. She squeals and pulls at the sleeves of Jay and Kathy. They both look on too, with wide smiles on their faces, and Jay wolf-whistles. Only Stuart, standing next to them, looks put out. He glares in their direction.  
“Oh for god’s sake!” he mutters. “Not again!” 

ONE YEAR LATER  
Outside on the square it’s cold and there’s been a fall of snow, rare for London even in December, so that everywhere is blanketed in white. In the flat the heating’s on and old-fashioned Christmas songs are playing. It’s cosy and homely.  
“Cal, listen to me,” Ben points towards the top third of the tree. “It needs to go above that bauble. Stick it there.”  
“Callum turns to him, tinsel in hand. “I’ll stick it where the sun don’t shine in a minute. You are SUCH a control freak.”  
“I ain’t a control freak, I’m a design consultant,” says Ben, speaking very slowly to explain the situation. “You’re tall, tree-man, I’m short, so I design and you do as I say.” He musses with Callum’s hair, running his fingers through the grey at his temples. “Looks like it’s snowing up there where you are too.”  
“God, this is the real-life nightmare before Christmas,” sighs Callum. He slaps Ben’s hands away, but his words and actions are belied by the smile on his face. He loops the tinsel around Ben’s neck before pulling him in for a long kiss.  
“Oh, you two are gross!” says Lexi, from the doorway. “Is this behaviour ever gonna stop?”  
“Shouldn’t think so,” says Ben after coming up for air. “Too much lost time to make up for.”  
Lexi makes retching noises as she crosses to the couch with a half-empty packet of crisps, having popped round to raid their kitchen for snacks, it appears.  
“Oi, watch it young lady,” says Ben. “We can always tell Father Christmas to cancel your pressies for this year.”  
She rolls her eyes, shovelling a handful of crisps in her mouth. “You do know I’m seventeen now, yeah?” she says in between chews.  
“You gonna help us with the tree?”  
“Nah, I’m meeting up with Ewan in a bit. We’re gonna go Christmas shopping.”  
“Hmm,” says Ben, giving her a hard stare. “I’m still keeping an eye on him. He’d better treat ya right or he’ll have me to answer to.”  
Lexi huffs, screwing up the now-empty crisp packet and tossing it onto the coffee table. “Yes father, he is aware. Mainly due to the fact that you tell him every time he comes within a hundred metres of ya.”  
“See, control freak! What did I tell ya?” asks Callum. “Poor kid’s scared stiff of ya.”  
Ben bats at his arm. “I’m protecting my daughter, oh sarcastic one. Hurry up and get that bit of tinsel up on that tree. I’ve got more instructions about the rest of it.”  
“Oh god,” moans Callum. “I can’t come shopping with you and Ewan, can I Lex?”  
She gets up and pulls on her coat. “ ’Fraid not.” She smiles sweetly at him, “This shoppin trip’s strictly for the under 30s.”  
Ben grins delightedly at Callum. “Oooooh, burn…” He waits until Lexi’s left the room before pinching Callum’s bum as he stretches to place the tinsel right where Ben had indicated in the first place. “Hurry up and finish this tree, I’ve got some more baubles you might wanna play with.”  
Callum looks at him with a mixture of disgust and delight. “Seriously? And they say romance is dead.”  
Ben grins at him, but then looks past him towards the window. “Look! It’s started snowing again.”  
He rushes to the window and stares out in glee, hands resting on the window sill.  
Callum watches him for a few seconds with a gentle smile on his face. “You are such a big kid,” he says fondly.  
He crosses to wrap his arms around Ben from behind, and bends to nuzzle his neck. In the background, the music plays on. Bing Crosby’s still dreaming of a White Christmas.  
Ben feels warm and content. And loved. He stares out across the square and sees the red and gold of the market stalls all decked out for Christmas, vibrant against the white of the snow. He places his hands over Callum’s at his waist. “Love you, ya know.”  
“I know,” murmurs Callum, his nose still buried in the hair at the nape of Ben’s neck. “Love ya too. Always have.”  
Ben doesn’t know how or when it happened, but somehow all the colours have come back into the world.


End file.
